


Desires

by Massiaderios



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ASoIaF Kink Meme, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Minor Character Death, Older Man/Younger Woman, Sexual Content, Underage Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-23
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:43:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 18
Words: 51,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Massiaderios/pseuds/Massiaderios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After making Arya watch Gendry's sexual humiliation, Tywin asked her what she was thinking....<br/>Not Arya, neither Tywin could expect the outcome .....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Eyes Without a Face](https://archiveofourown.org/works/398037) by [Magnetism_bind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind). 
  * Inspired by [Eyes Without a Face](https://archiveofourown.org/works/398037) by [Magnetism_bind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind). 



"So, what were you thinking while daring to give me such murderous looks, girl?', lord Tywin had startled Arya with his straightforward question. His voice, calm but demanding nevertheless, made her freeze on the spot. She composed herself with all her might, realizing that Tywin's disgusting exhibitionism was on-purposeful and meaningful. She wouldn't do any good for herself by playing coy frightened girl, she would end up on her knees sooner or later any way. Sure, being raped in barracks would be much worse...

Arya returned the lord's gaze,"Should I answer you, my lord, if all my thoughts of the matter were either insolent or improper?"  
"I command you to," Tywin's pale green eyes were flickered with cold gold.  
"Should I start with the insolent ones or the improper ones?, Arya tried to sound indifferent.  
"Tell them in the consecutive order, girl. Sit, have some wine," he handled Arya his goblet she had filled for him earlier.

Arya took a big swallow of dark red liquid hoping to feel brave and almost choked on such a strong and spicy wine. The hot wave immediately went down her body. She knew, the situation was a dangerous one, but a strange if not an insane one at the same time. Surprisingly Arya felt some sort of a dark excitement. She carefully drank some more wine and it gave her a placid feeling. The dammed old lion wanted the simple truth, so be it.

She started calmly, "I wouldn't deny, my lord, my first desire was to cut your throat for humiliating my friend in front of me," She dared the inquiring look, "Go on, girl", the lord's voice and glance did not show any anger in spite of her unthinkable choice of words. 

"But while you went on with your hm... action, my thoughts took a different direction." Arya took another sip. "I thought that probably it was a first time for poor boy, how lousy he performed it."

"Could you do better?" Tywin was clearly surprised.

"I never did it, my lord, but I saw a good one."

"Well, this is getting interesting, where and when?"

"Couple of years ago I was hiding in the stables from.... doesn't meter from whom... " Arya realized, she almost said from Septa. She should be more careful..."So I saw one stupid servant girl do it to one bad boy."

"And how well did she perform it?", Tywin sounded well entertained.

"She kissed it, licked it, and sucked it like it was some tasty lollypop," blurted out Arya, trying to sound flat."So, remembering her attitude, I started to wonder, what it would feel like to do it." She took another sip of wine, she felt a little dizziness, but more courage.

"You curiosity could be satisfied easily, girl," Tywin was sizing her up.

"But, I did not linger on this idea, my lord. My last improper fantasy was...", Arya hesitated for a second.

"Go on, what was it?" demanded the lion.

"I fantasized about the tongue between my legs. I thought the same could be done for a girl too."

Tywin looked at her with amazement ,"You aren't a blushing one, clever young girl. How far did you experiment already?

"Nothing actually, my lord. I have never been kissed, yet."

"Do you fantasize about the first kiss too?"

"Of course, my lord, but not today certainly."

"Why not?"

The kisses should be done out of emotions, what I had witnessed did not give me such of inspiration."

"You did not seem to be a romantic one, girl", Tywin sounded surprised.

"I am not, my lord, but I want some feelings involved in my first kiss," Arya replied calmly without breaking eye contact.

"Come here," commanded Tywin sharply.

Arya put down the goblet and approached slowly sensing danger. Tywin pulled her to himself and forced his lips on hers. The kiss was a long one, with tongues and teeth touching, as Arya did not choose to close her mouth. She felt some strange wave go down her body, but it was not like the one from the alcohol. She hated Tywin for his cruel deeds, but this sudden closeness felt wonderful nevertheless. The power emanating from him paralyzed Arya's defenses. It was crazy to realize as the man was older than her father, but then he pulled her tighter to himself she could feel the hardness of his body. She even wondered for a second what he looked like shirtless. Couple of days ago she desperately wanted to run her hand across Gendry's necked chest to feel his muscles, but did not dare, as her dashing friend did not pay attention to the woman that was developing inside her....

Tywin let her go right after they simultaneously broke the kiss.

“Are you hungry?” he asked rather incidentally. “Go and order us anything of your choice. Let them bring it here,” he finished without waiting for her reply.

As everything was turning an unexpected way, she should think and act carefully and fast, decided Arya. On her way to the kitchen she was looking around for Jaquen, realizing that tomorrow she probably wouldn't have such opportunity. She still had one name to whisper to him. It shouldn't be any unimportant pawn, she wouldn't make such mistake any more. Lord Tywin could be killed in his sleep, if he would choose to advance on her brutally or if she felt it necessary to help Robb.

The choice between Joffrery and Cersey seemed to be the hard one, but after a little strategic thinking, Arya had already developed this ability by listening to lord Tywin during his war consuls, she was sure of her choice. Both of them were equally evil, but Joffrey would come of age soon, so it would be foolish to let him obtain such powers......


	2. Chapter 2

She woke up to use a privy. It was close to dawn .The lion was sleeping. His dagger was lying on the table by his side of the bed. The rubies on its scabbard were glittering in the candlelight with a deep pulsing glow like drops of blood. She should be as quick as a deer, as silent as a shadow, and it would be a matter of seconds with sharp valerian steel...But she couldn’t ignite the desire to kill Tywin, in spite of the obvious opportunity given to do it. Her body was still holding the memories of tonight, the memories that eliminated the hatred to the enemy, and even made her forgive the disgusting abuse of her friend.  
He was not romantic or gallant with her, giving her his usual sharp commands or just turning her body the ways he wanted , but his advances never felt wrong to her. He did not compliment her appearance but obviously did not consider her ugly ever. His lips and hands expressed more than any words could. She forgot about “Arya Horseface” and felt as attractive and wanted, she thought she could never be. In spite of his age, Tywin’s body was lean and muscled. She was a little shy to touch him at first. “Go ahead,” reassured her the Lion pressing her hesitant hand to his chest and directing it down. She got bold afterwards, exploring him like he did with her. And he apparently enjoyed playing with her body, unneglecting any part of it. His tongue on her nub gave her such breathtaking pleasure that she could never achieve with her fingers before.  
Tywin left her virginity untouched, a big surprise to her. She thought he wouldn’t spare her, especially after her miserable blow-job performance which she had volunteered to please him in return. It was not as easy a task as it seemed. She tried her best, but almost gagged on his lordship’s enormous member. Tywin was not displeased at all, did not mock her about it ever, just had helped himself with his hand. In spite of her obvious failure she felt as a woman grown for the first time in her life.  
Arya glanced at the dagger the last time. “Stupid soft hearted bitch”, she felt guilty but couldn’t do anything about it. This night belonged to her and to this man, and nothing else would matter tonight to her. She climbed up back into bed and snuggled up to Tywin, because it just felt right to her at the moment, reassuring herself that the Lion wouldn’t notice any way. She was so wrong about it, “My girl, I am definitely keeping you,” purred the lion who was unfortunately just half asleep. He extended his hands and pulled her up tightly to himself. Although she was embarrassed that her need had been noticed but his embrace calmed and relaxed her to sleep.

He knew it was madness to let his guard down with a girl who had faked her identity. His original plan was just to play with her and send her away afterwards. But the more they went on, the more he was delaying to do it until it was not an option any more as the girl was already asleep and he was drifting off.  
She was such a child still, although a smart and brave one, so sensitive to his touch, curious and sincere in her explorations, doing it out of her own desire. He was so relieved about her inexperience; it would be a joy to lead and to teach her, a long forgotten task for him, he had done this with only one woman in his life- with his beloved Joanna. This amazing girl was the first one for him he cared to please after two decades of solitude. She was much younger than Joanna but much more uninhibited and fearless. He actually couldn’t compare them in anything, and probably it was a good thing for him. It's just that he started to feel now was as strong as what he felt thirty something years ago…All these years he had just used some young servants of both sexes who usually satisfied him orally by his command, without any feelings, any attachments, and even any prolonged time spent. If he only knew he would come to this closeness with his little cupbearer, he would never let her learn about this part of his life, hell, he wouldn’t do it at all. What was done he couldn’t change and he wouldn’t apologize to her of course, but would think about something to say to smooth away this bad memory. After the kiss he forced on her driven by some unexplainable impulse, he sent her off to clear his head, but he was not able to stop himself from wanting more of her. He half expected her to not return, to hide somewhere, to try to run away, or to do something unpredictable. She did return, with delay, but calm and confident. She refused to have more wine during their dinner. When he got up from the table, offered her his hand, with a short “Come,” she took his hand without flinching, and let him lead her to his bedchamber…  
Seven hells, he wouldn’t fight it, wouldn’t deny this to himself, although it was uneasy for him to feel such attachment after so many years. He shouldn’t let himself fall under a younger woman’s charms and to act as a fool as a result, as his father did in the end of his life. He should be in absolute control of the situation. This girl would be a challenge to control, but he always liked challenges. The most important thing for him now was to learn who she really was. After tonight he was sure, not even a little chance she could be a stonemason’s daughter; she was not careful enough again, couple of more things slipped from her tongue, as her liking of horse riding and aversion to embroidery or so. She also was easily accustomed with the upscale bath utilities and the luxury surroundings of his bedchambers any lowborn would be confused with and mesmerized at. A rich one but not a highborn she could be an exception, but as a merchant’s daughter she wouldn’t have a possible reason to hide her identity. And she was not a bastard for sure as her bond with her deceased father sounded like a real thing among her so many unconvincing lies.  
He was not familiar with the lesser Northern houses, especially daughter’s wise….  
“His loyalty killed him,” were the girl’s words, her huge gray eyes gave him the defiant gaze after their first long conversation some weeks ago. And he suddenly recalled how red his cupbearer’s eyes were in the morning right after the night the raven brought the news about the fate of the little brothers of the Young Wolf.  
It suddenly came to him. Impossible…She did look like a Stark, but both girls should be in the King’s Landing, unless Cersei was ashamed to tell him the truth, or more precisely was lying to him. After all the latest events it wouldn’t surprise him much.  
He was not sure but he was about to find it out in a minute. The girl was soundly sleeping in his arms and he felt almost guilty to do it.  
“Arya”, he called her sharply.


	3. Chapter 3

“What? the girl muttered sleepily . “Arya,” he repeated and shook her slightly. “What?” now she sounded irritated, but managed to open her eyes. The same second the girl got back to reality, she tried to dash away from him, but Tywin was holding her firmly. She tried to struggle against him, anger, despair, and even fear in her huge gray eyes. “Calm down, Aria,” he pulled her even more tightly with one hand, imprinting her small slender body in his, and with his other hand was caressing her short hair and shoulders, “It is good to know your real name after all. I don’t have any intentions to harm you, Arya, my girl.” She relaxed, submitting to his touch.  
He should think fast and good now, with the girl of some lesser house he would have a couple of years to make a decision, keeping her as his ward until then. With Arya Stark he couldn’t afford such time, both girls should be exchanged for his son, and she would be lost for him forever. He shouldn’t act irrationally however. Seven hells, after two decades he finally started feeling again, and the one who had awakened it was the sister of his enemy, not anyone else.  
“Did you know my real name before? Was it dammed Littlefinger who told you? “asked Arya with irritation in her voice, omitting “my lord” of course.  
“No, just figured it out, probably should feel lucky to be still alive”, he glanced on the dagger.  
“So, what are you going to do with me now? Sansa and I should be exchanged, right?” was difficult to say by her tone whether she was happy about it or not.  
“I decided to keep you, remember and we’ll talk about it. But first I can’t wait to hear how you managed to escaped the Red Keep.” Tywin released Arya from his embrace, but extended his arm to her side of the bed, so when she moved away from him she would still be lying on his arm.  
………………

Smart, tough, unflinching, full of hatred and desire for revenge but hurt and lonely too; all this he could see clearly from her story and from the occasional questions he asked her about her life before the war. No gold would gain her devotion and love, and he wanted no less from her, if he would pursue the idea that was building steadily in his head during the last half hour. He could not persuade himself to put this idea aside in spite of some contradictions

“As you happened to be a little princess of the North my only opportunity to keep you is to wed you as soon as possible.” Rush decision, rush words, the girl was obviously in shock, looking at him in disbelief. With her boyish attitude and appearance, marriage was probably the last thing she had considered in the near future. He knew she just had flowered recently, only because of the obvious stain on her pants a couple of weeks ago, as her appearance did not give any clue of her started already awakening womanhood. If she wouldn’t be so responsive he wouldn’t dare even to play with her like they did tonight. But would she like the real sex? And to make her pregnant the next two-three years would be out the question. Good, in his position he doesn’t owe any explanations to anyone, but they would be sniggering and whispering in the court behind their backs anyway. It would be easier to deal with the commoners-couple of tongues pulled out, couple of insolent fools dragged to dungeon, and people would learn not to speak about it any more.  
“Will it work against my brother?” Arya recovered at last. Tywin expected anything but this, any other girl would assume his infatuation first. Yes, it would work against her brother of course, as after the Young Wolf had insulted Freys by breaking the marriage agreement, the loss of Arya as a promised bride would add to the offence. His original plan was to persuade Freys to get rid of Robb Stark and his close bannerman. Now he would change his plans for his and Arya’s sake, it would benefit Lannisters anyhow.  
“Our union could help to make a treaty between our houses, if your brother proves less stubborn of course. And your marriage with one of Freys wouldn’t atone your brother’s betrayal any way.” He knew Arya had learned recently about the event, so he decided to clarify it openly to her.  
“What? I did not plan to marry anyone, especially some Frey.” good, more defiance in her voice now, than right after she heard his proposal.  
“As I know, your mother had promised your hand for crossing the bridge. By the way, in Twin towers they don’t let women practice swords and archery, and the boy you had been promised to doesn’t have any authority there, even if you would win him to your side, it wouldn’t do much for you.”

Arya kept silent for a while. Although her mind was overwhelmed, she was feeling her head was about to explode, she made an effort to think like a grown up, putting her rising anger aside. Yes, she hated the idea of marriage, of belonging to some man, of obeying her husband, as stupid septas were teaching girls, but she couldn’t see any real escape from the situation. She was angry with Robb, he did not lose a battle, but was too weak and selfish and made this stupid mistake because of some girl. She would kill for her brother, she would risk her life for him, but why she should give herself up to everyday boredom, which was equal to slow torture to her because of his mistake? Why could men do what they please? She bit her lip. This world was unfair to women, she always knew it. Her father understood her, but even he would want her to wed one day, although she was sure, her father wouldn’t drag her to the marriage altar against her will. Her father was not here for her any more, she couldn’t change this world, she couldn’t become a man, so she should choose what was the best for her. She looked at Tywin, he did look and did speak like a real king, the sheer force that always emanated from him made her forget everything and crave his caresses tonight, his confident strong embrace made her calm down and feel protected. If only she could be sure that Jaquen would do for her the third name she had whispered to him yesterday. If the little Tomen would be on the Iron Throne, Tywin would be a real king for a long time, and she would be his queen. Was she possibly thinking like this? Arya was surprised with her own attitude, but kept pondering her chances over. Listen to one man, to the one she actually respected, would be much better that being bossed around by bunch of idiots.  
“Would you let me practice sword?”  
“Yes, but with the trainer, not dueling around with it of course. But personally I would prefer you to focus on archery. I love to hunt, when the war is over, you could be my companion in my hunting trips, if you wish to.”  
It sounded promising enough, plus if the war could be stopped, Tywin’s terrible Gregor and his likes wouldn’t pillage, torture and kill anymore.  
“What would you want Robb to do?”  
“It’s obvious, Arya. Your brother should pledge fealty to the Iron Throne, I would let him keep his title of the King of the North, but everything else would be as it was before his rebellion. It is generous offer, but in return I would need his help to defeat Stannis.” Tywin sounded certain of his plan, and Arya felt offended for her brother.  
“Robb never lost the battle, his position is strong. He will not bend the knee to our father’s killer.”  
Tywin’s gaze heaved, but his tone remained quiet,” When Freys and Bolton step aside, he would be grateful to me for such outcome. And about your father, however I did not approve of lord Stark execution, it would never had happened if I would be in King’s Landing, your father was a traitor, he renounced my grandson to be a rightful king in front of the whole court.”  
Arya couldn’t restrain herself any more, she sharply moved aside Tywin and sat up, looking at him with defiance, and almost shouted, ” My father was not a traitor; he was a true friend to king Robert. Maybe it is the truth in the letters you are trying to burn so obstinately?”  
Tywin sat up abruptly. His eyes darkened with anger, he raised his hand and she expected the blow, but she did not flinch. Well-expected slap did not follow, he just took her by her chin pulling her face close and maintaining the eye contact, ”The usual punishment for such words is death. You will never mention this again not to me not to anyone else. I spent years to regain the respect to my house and I will protect Lannister name from such filth by all means. “ “Is it clear?” he added after a short pause.  
Arya nodded involuntarily braking under his gaze.  
Tywin let her go, got up from the bed, dresser up and headed towards the door.  
He turned his head, “Your chambers will be across the hall, make yourself presentable, maids will be send to you to help you with it,” he commanded flatly and left banging the door.


	4. Chapter 4

He was angry but not solely at Arya, she just had guts to voice what nobody else dared to, not even Kevan. Her words hurt him and trigged unwelcome thoughts. He was not blind; he just had not lived in Red Keep for a long time. Unlike Tyrion, both Cersei and Jaime had such irreproachable reputations that they never made him suspect anything like this. 

He was not naïve, so when he had learned about lord Stark’s revelations and Stannis’ letter, he knew, it was probably the truth. It was like a stab in the back from his beloved golden twins. How could they loose control to the extent jeopardizing everything he worked so hard for?

Instantly the strange idea came to his mind, he never was fond of pondering about emotions before, “Are all Lions prone to give way to uncontrollable desire to the point of ruining themselves in it?” He remembered his father’s follies, now it was his own children’s unspeakable disgrace, and what about him, who was immune to emotions until now?

Seven hells, even in his anger he did not think to step back from his decision, he wanted the girl, however insolent, unruly and bad tempered she was. 

No, he would handle Arya without weakening himself, she was not ten and three yet, so it should be natural for her to respect him and follow given directions.

It was clear to him, Arya had problems holding back her emotions, so he would teach her to control herself. But he wanted his girl to trust him, to share her thoughts with him, not to avoid him or fear him. He secretly admired her sharp tongue and lack of traditional courtesies, so there should be some balance found between his steadfast authority for her and her straightforwardness with him.

He was glad he could stop himself from striking Arya in his moment of rage; it would be very difficult to win her back if he hit her, given his inability to ask forgiveness and her unforgiving nature. 

Now he had a lot of writing to do, as his plans were changed. He would take back his offer to Roose Bolton for the position of Warden of the North. The gold would do instead, given the nature of the man who even wed Fat Valda to get silver equal to her weight. What he wanted from him now, was just to withdraw his host from Robb Stark’s army. He would require the same from the Freys; they would break their alliance with the Young Wolf for a royal pardon and maybe for some position in the court.

Weakened upstart king of the North would be easy to persuade, he was the only male Stark left to continue the line, so he should be responsible about his life. Although Tywin was not sure about this, the killing of Arya’s younger brothers seemed like falsehood to him, the boys probably had escaped with somebody’s help, Greyjoy did not want to admit it, as his one daughter did not want to admit Arya’s escape, and in the rage of panic and shame he probably just had killed some common boys of some resemblance. He would send a search for the Stark boys, as wards-hostages they would be priceless to keep a peace in the future. But now even Arya shouldn’t know about his suspicion, so she could play her role in persuading her brother.

But the first thing this morning he should arrange things for Arya, hopefully some competent handmaidens and seamstress could be found here. 

He turned to these practical matters, gave the order to search the castle for adequate servants, interviewed several women, chose and briefly instructed them. All the personal servants of Lady Whent had left with her, but he made sure he would give Arya the best he could in the current situation.

His displeasure with Arya left him completely, to his own surprise; he even wondered whether she got over her fit of anger or not. But no, he wouldn’t check on her, not at least until tomorrow.

Very small were the chances she would come to him first with a sorry face, as strong and independent as she was, but she obviously would feel uneasy with this little silent treatment. And afterwards it would be clear how much she cared about him…. 

………..

 

“My father is not a traitor,” Arya wanted to scream it loud. After Tywin shut the door, she just climbed back under the furs and laid there for a while shaking with anger. “Hate you, hate you, dammed lion…” Only after her rage subsided, she started thinking again.  
“You had angered him, stupid, and what now?” “What now, really?”

She felt the panic, “Is he going to lock me up in that chambers? Probably wouldn’t want to marry me any more. If he would exchange me, and Robb would wed me to this Frey boy, I will run away and go to Bravoos.” She thought about Jaquen’s offer and the coin he gave her right before his departure. 

She dressed up and ventured across the hall. Two lannister guards were already there. “Of course, I am a prisoner, am I?” she fought bitterly.

“My lady, we are on your command,” the both men bowed respectfully. “We are your personal guards. Here are you chambers, milady,” the guard opened the big carved door.

Liars, she would check out later what amount of freedom his lordship had granted her. 

The chambers were spacious, even bigger than Tywin’s and with feminine decor, probably lady’s Whent chambers. Arya hated it already. Two women, who were sculling around the room, immediately stopped what they were doing and bowed even deeper then the guards. “On you service, milady.” 

“What are your names?” asked Arya, trying to sound friendly.

The younger one was Liddy, the older was Dasha.

“ You suppose to help me with clothes or something, right?” Arya was dying to find out about Tywin’s exact instructions.

“I’ll be your handmaiden, milady,” answered Liddy sheepishly. “And I’ll be your seamstress,” the older woman sounded more self-confident.

“Did lord Tywin personally instruct you?” she decided to be straightforward.

“Yes, my lady.”

“What exactly did he tell you?”

“To respect you, to serve you, and later on to prepare you for your wedding with his lordship.”

He did not change his planes in spite of their fight. Strangely this information calmed Arya down. 

“How much time do we have?”

“ Ten days or so, milady.”

“If you can work miracles,” sniggered Arya pointing at herself with a deep sigh. “Are you sure you can make a wedding outfit in a week?”

“His lordship did not talk about a wedding dress, just had instructed me to arrange your everyday dresses for now, milady.

“Interesting, he is going to provide it somehow then,” Arya told herself

They went through the lady’s Whent’s closet or more precisely through what she had left behind there. Such distasteful garments, this lady was a hen for sure, her dresses were of pink and yellow colors with multicolored flower-designed embroidery, probably her personal preference and of course there were some bat designs on the garments reflecting her house. 

She dismissed all suggestions of Dasha and pointed to a simple gray dress with fine fabric looking almost unworn which she spotted in the corner of the closet. Two or three Arya’s could fit in it.  
“Make me a nice fitting dress out of it.”

This would be for Tywin’s company, and for herself she wanted some comfortable boys outfits “The nicest you could find,” as she should be presentable now. She sent the younger girl away with one of the guards to secure her mission to look through the abandoned closets of the castle. “Let see how soon he will learn about it and how irritated he will be,” Arya mused for herself.

As the shoemaker came to measure her feet, she asked him to make some good riding boots for her as well.

It was not so bad, her handmaiden did bring her the choice clothes she required and Tywin never appeared angry. She changed into a brown doublet after Dasha had altered the pants for her height. This outfit was much better than her cupbearer clothes had been. But her shoes looked so terribly worn, and it upset her suddenly. It was the first time in her life she did really care about such of trifles.

Now was the time to find out about the limits of her freedom here. She headed outside to the courtyard, the guards at her hills, but maintaining the respectful distance.

She couldn’t bring herself to go to the forge, although she worried about her friend’s well being, but she couldn’t think what she could possibly say to Gendry…

She ventured to the training yard determined to see what would happened if she would ask for a training sword or a bow. “Milady, let me have a word with a master of arts here,” one of her guards went ahead. She had not finished watching a fight of two squires, as the robust knight, who probably was in charge here bowed to her respectfully, ”How can I help you, my lady.” “I would like to practice some archery,” Arya tried to sound confident.

“Did you do it before, my lady?” Arya was about to become offensive, but the man just offered his assistance and lessons then ordered some boy to bring the lightest bow he could find…

Tywin did not call her to sup with him, as she secretly hoped. “Probably still angry, of course, I got him good for insulting my father.” But this realization did not give her any satisfaction. Probably she should try to choose her words more carefully the next time. 

Arya ate with her maids. First they refused point-blank, she couldn’t do anything but just paraphrase the words Tywin had told her once,” It is bad manners to refuse your lady’s offer.”

It Winterfell she always was friendly with small folk, at least with smart ones. Here the rules were different; she could bet Tywin warned both women to refrain from any familiarity towards her. She would insist they would stop calling her “milady” but knowing lord’s cruelty she did not want to jeopardize the poor women. 

All these stupid bows irritated her at first, but later came a feeling of a strange satisfaction, when people did her biddings without questions, she had never had it in her life.

She did not feel a prisoner or a mouse anymore, although she understood it was not real freedom, she obviously could not leave the castle walls. But she did not have the desire to run away, what she wanted, was to see Tywin.

Liddy prepared her a bathtub, as Arya stripped out of her clothes, she noticed the girl looked away with a strange expression on her face. She sent Liddy away and examined her body. 

Of course, Tywin had left several love marks claiming her for himself as she heard men like to do. She could see a couple of spots on her thighs, some on her bottom, not that they surprised her as he had been pretty busy there. Did she leave some marks on his body as well? She was not sure as it was her first time and she was holding back…. She submerged into fragrant water. 

It would be fair to do the same with him what parts of his body she would like to mark…first his neck of course for everyone to see, then she would get his shoulders… This idea suddenly got her excited. 

She wished Tywin would be here in the bathtub with her, just like he had started it yesterday, probably thinking she would be clean enough for him then, but it made her relax and trust him….

Could he be still angry? Or, as he knew now that she was a lady, he wouldn’t touch her before wedding? Or he just got uninterested? 

The water got cold and Arya climbed out, annoyed. 

“So I am sleeping alone tonight,” she squeezed the pillow between her legs.

She was lying under warm furs, soft silk sheets were wrapped around her body caressing her naked skin, still hoping….

Sure it was much better than sleeping on the prickly straw mattress. 

But, in addition to this luxury, his clever hands all around her would be of such bliss, like it was last night. 

“What would he do if I would sneak to his chamber and would get into his bed?” Sure she would never do it, just one utterly idiotic thought, it would be completely humiliating; plus his chambers were guarded any way. 

“Don’t be stupid, stop it right now, are you falling for him or what? Just help yourself with your hand, bitch.” But she did not want even to try it, she new it wouldn’t be the same.

The last hope that Tywin would make it to her bed tonight slipped away leaving Arya to reach a peak of irritation. 

“He might just call someone to get himself satisfied, easier and faster for him, no play back required.”

This last idea and the memory of Gendry’s abuse that came back with it, made Arya even angrier.

“If I would find out about someone’s mouth on his cock, I would cut this dammed thing off him,” promised Arya to herself.

She fell asleep with the two contradicting desires; Tywin making love to her and her revenging his infidelity with a bloody ruby-scabbard dagger in her hands.


	5. Chapter 5

The next day Arya was practicing archery again. She was better now, although the bow she was given was much more difficult to use that Bran’s light bow she had in Winterfell.

“My lady, lord Tywin sent me to give it to you,” Tywin’s squire was handling her some thin bundle. She unwrapped the cloth, her breath caught in her throat, it was her precious Needle! She pressed the sword to her chest and couldn’t control a genuine smile. It did not slip his mind, when she mentioned how special the confiscated sword was to her. She did not beg, she just told him how desperately she wanted it back.

So, was it the obvious peace offering? If so, she would accept it gladly. 

“Please, go and ask lord Tywin when I could personally express my gratitude to him,” she sent the boy off, and returned to sending arrows to calm herself down from excitement.

Arya was drawing a bow, ready to shoot, when the practice yard suddenly got unusually quiet.  
Never mind, she was determined to get the center this time so instead of moving her head she focused, took aim and let go an arrow. 

“Not bad at all,” she heard the calm voice and steps approaching. 

Honestly, it was a better shot this time, but again not exactly in the core.

“Lord Tywin,” she tried to sound ladylike  
“Lady Arya,” Tywin put his arm on her shoulder.

“ Lord Tywin, thank you so much for giving me my Needle back,” Arya had the genuine desire to put her arms around his neck and kiss him, totally inappropriate notion, so she just smiled happily at Tywin.

“Never mind, just giving you back what belongs to you.”

A dangerous thought started building in her head, the thought about returning things to the rightful owners...

She shouldn’t risk her friend’s life so she should be careful.

“My lord, if you truly believe in returning things, can I ask you for another  
favor?”

“You already started,” Tywin looked at her inquiringly 

“It was my friend’s, he was killed, he wanted me to have it if something happened to him, plus I liked it a lot anyway.” she tried to sound indifferently convincing

“It is a helmet in bullhead shape,” finished Arya.

Without question Tywin gave sharp commands to search for the thing.

“Thank you,” Arya smiled at him again and touched his hand, still in misbelieve how easy she could accomplish it. 

“I am really curious how good you are with this sword you love so much, would you care to spar?”

“With you?” Arya couldn’t hide a big surprise

“You’ll be attacking me and my training sword is not sharpened any way.”

Of course he parried her strikes with ease, Although Arya had tried different angles.

After twenty minutes or so Tywin twisted his sword and flung Needle out of her hand.  
Arya bit her lip in frustration.

“What do you expect? Not bad for someone with just a couple of months training.” 

“Now I need a real opponent,” he turned to master of arts.

It was different than what she witnessed in Winterfell’s training yard where the young boys were eagerly attacking without reserving the strength for later.

Tywin was a calculated fighter, did not spend his energy in vain, carefully watched his opponent, was dodging a man’s swipes and was charging ahead when less expected. His movements were springy, graceful but powerful nevertheless, like of a big cat, a lion, he truly was. 

Arya was so mesmerized and forgot about her frustration. Of course, he was right, it takes years of practice she couldn’t seriously compare her skills even with the squires who were practicing every day, not yet. 

………………..

He never approved of women practicing fighting arts in his past, he had forbid it to Cersei, who was a couple of years younger than Arya when she had wanted to match Jaime in everything. Maybe it was not so bad at all to step away from traditions? 

At least with Arya it felt right somehow. At first his plan was just to disarm her during their first minutes discouraging her to continue practicing, but he was so impressed with her skills that he wanted to see more of her. Arya was so natural, her body followed her sword, she moved fluidly, she did it like she was dancing, he even felt aroused while paring her quick attacks. And she even almost hit his ankle once.

Hell, some boys couldn’t do like her even after one or two years of everyday training. Sure, he would get her the best trainer he could find, although the occasional bruises on her body wouldn’t appeal to him at all.

He knew she liked him fighting, her glances were full of admiration, and he felt at least twenty years younger. He did not practice for a couple of months, but back in Casterly Rock he had a good habit of exercising almost every day. He definitely should be back to this useful routine now and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to spend some time with his young wife in the training yard in the future.

……………….

Arya always was amazed how fast all of Tywin’s commands were carried out. They were about to leave when a guard brought the bull helmet. 

“Here, you can go and return this helmet to whom it belonged,” said Tywin uncharacteristically and handled her the helmet.

“My lord, but …” she did not know what to say.

“Don’t insult my intelligence, Arya.”

“And no, I am not doing my daughter’s biddings, so Robert’s bastard is safe while he keeps his silence.”

“One more thing, be ready to sup tonight with me; some of my bannermen will be present too,” added he flatly.

Arya was ashamed and angry, is she so easy to read for him?

In the forge she asked to be left alone with Gendry.

“Please forget about everything, Gendry,” she said hesitatingly and gave him his helmet

Gendry took his helmet from her and nodded silently.

“When I will be able to I’ll help you to get your own forge, I promise,” she was sure she could find the way to do it somehow.

“Don’t even bother yourself, my lady, my only wish is to stay away from all ladies and lords as far as possible from now on,” he bowed to her and returned to his work.

 

 

Her dress was ready; Dasha even did some trick so Arya’s breasts looked a bit larger. One pair of a new little leather shoes fit good too. But her short uneven hairdo looked ridiculous with a dress. She could care less, her hair would grow back eventually, and actually she liked it short, easy to wash, but she knew she would be scrutinized critically by Tywin’s men, as they never saw her in girl’s clothes. 

She felt sad and frustrated because Gendry wouldn’t be her friend any more, she hated her hairdo, but resolved to keep a quiet facade in front of men she had served wine just two days ago, she shouldn’t embarrass herself or show any weakness to them. 

Everybody, including Tywin, got up when she entered the room. She was seated by Tywin’s right side and men did not pay much attention to her. Until suddenly Damion Lannister, obviously Tywin’s relative, asked a question about Stark’s direwolfs. 

It was not his business, but Arya politely fulfilled his curiosity.

“Had some Lannister ever tried to domesticate the lion cub?” asked Arya in return.

“Lions are savage beasts, they can’t be domesticated, “answered Tywin. 

Then someone recalled the lions Tywin’s father had in Casterly Rock in cages.

“Not any more,” replied Tywin, “I respect the sigil of my house too much to do such, it is more fair to kill the lion in the hunt, that make him loose his dignity in the imprisonment,” his face darkened for a second.

“But a wolf cub, especially she-wolf could be a perfect pet, licking her master’s commanding hand and wiggling her tail…” commented ser Damion Lannister drunkenly looking at Arya and about to continue.

Tywin gave the man such a baleful glance that he immediately shut up and shifted his eyes down.  
Then Tywin gave Arya an inquiring look, probably expecting her to lash out.

The room was plunged in silence all eyes fixed on her and Tywin.

Arya collected herself, suppressing the desire to throw something heavy in ser Damion’s face. She should not give them the satisfaction of such a spectacle.

“Direwolf is not a pet, although he could be a faithful companion if you deserve his trust and affection, but he wouldn’t suffer falsehood from you and wouldn’t hesitate to snap your throat open for betrayal,” she even managed an icy smile collecting all her self-control.

“Fair words, my lady,” Tywin approvingly nodded to her.  
………………….

Her reply was on the verge of a threat, though Tywin was pleasantly surprised with her wit and ability to keep her composure. He specifically warned his men to refrain from any comments about Arya’s family, and was very displeased with this provocation produced out of relatively harmless conversation.

And Arya definitely was not a pet type, too strong of character and of rebellious personality, that only an idiot could suggest so. Although to tame her seemed so alluring, and he believed he was pretty successful to make Arya quiet submissive under his touch the first and only night they were together. 

Yesterday he decided not to touch her any more before the wedding, but he couldn’t chase away the memory of Arya moaning with pleasure and looking at him with such affection and gratitude. It was so tempting to get that response from her again…. 

He came to her chambers later that night. She was in bed already, under furs and face down, she did not even turn her head. Probably sleeping, he thought. He undressed himself, laid beside her and embraced her carefully without any intentions to wake her up. 

In a second, Arya turned to him swiftly, encircled his neck, and attacked his lips with a hungry, a bite-like kiss, trailing her tongue down his neck and sucking hard over the knob of his throat. She slowly proceeded down his body licking, kissing, heartily sucking in and even giving occasional bites.

It was like their roles reversed, with only difference that Arya was much more harder on him, not that he was complaining about it, quiet opposite actually. But he felt a strong desire to pin her down, enter her and fuck her hard to reestablish his dominance, only his decision to keep Arya’s virginity untouched until the ceremony could stop him from doing so. He just wondered was it her passion, was it her unresolved anger, or she was trying to show him that she was not his pet.

She was already close to his cock, looking at it with a little hesitation.

“Arya, don’t do anything you don’t really want to do, don’t feel obligated to please me,” he offered partially because remembering her previous difficulty to proceed with the act but also fearing a little her present aggressive attitude.

“But I want to learn, I don’t want you to command someone else to do it for you.” Arya said offhandedly.

It was like a slap, well deserved of course. He knew she would bring it up soon or later. What he could or should say? He could say just exactly what he felt,” Don’t be silly, Arya, I love you and can’t even imagine doing such things any more.” But he couldn’t bring himself to speak these words, and not because he was ashamed of his feelings. No, strangely he felt quiet content and rejuvenated being in love anew and he did not wish to fight it. Most people do speak such words easily without even feeling them in truth. But it was better to keep it unspoken, because of his station and reputation the simple word love from his tongue would probably sound as a platitude.

He kept a silence, carefully paraphrasing, ”Arya, my dear, I don’t wish anyone else but you by my side. Soon we’ll say our vows, and I had never broke my vows in my previous marriage,” he took Arya’s face in his hands, brought her close to his, looking her straight in the eyes, ”Only you and me from now, be sure about it.”

………………….

Arya was surprised that she had not angered Tywin with her straightforwardness, not that she had tried to purposely. His “don’t do” suggestion had just asked for such a remark and she couldn’t help herself. 

His words seemed sincere, his eyes weren’t as cold as usually, it was like a declaration of love, but without the exact word spoken. Was she just imagining all this? “Don’t be pathetic, you aren’t Sansa,” 

But surprisingly, anger left her; she leaned towards Tywin and gave him a gentle kiss.

“Deal, I promise I would never mention it again to you,” she said simply.

“But I still want to do it, if you don’t mind,” she gave away the mischievous smile and went back down to him.

“Just try not to bite him,” Tywin put his hand on Arya’s head caressing her hair….


	6. Chapter 6

She was alone the night before the wedding; she would not see Tywin until tomorrow in the Sept. It was strange after all these nights together during the last two weeks, but Tywin respected traditions. She couldn’t complain actually, by the worse scenario they wouldn’t touch each other during these two weeks at all. 

Most highborn girls would fuss about such an important event, would be romantically excited about the ceremony or would be afraid of the bedding tradition and the consummation depending on their disposition towards the groom.

But she did not have any reason to exaggerate the romantic aspect of her tomorrow’s union with Tywin, or to worry about the following bedding, as she was sure Tywin wouldn’t let the men traditionally deliver her to the bedchambers, and about the consummation, it was probably the only thing they had not experienced yet.

 

All marriages among the highborn were the arranged ones in any part of the Seven Kingdoms, some couples just were more lucky to develop love in time, like her parents  
had done.

Her tomorrow union with Tywin was not a typical arranged one, by all the given standards. It was happening by the sheer will of the lord, whose determination was steadfast.

Sure, she could perceive herself as a hostage-victim without a real choice given,  
but the other day she overheard the conversation between her husband-to-be and ser Kevan. “If you had wanted Arya Stark in our fold just for political reasons you could marry her off to Tyrion or Lancer,” said Tywin’s brother as a matter of fact.

Lord Tywin was alone for two decades, and she, the wisp of the girl, made him decide on such a crucial change in his life without even trying it, this counted for something indeed, and made her stop her many attempts to rebel. 

She didn’t know if this was true love or if he just felt a strange sexual desire towards her, in spite of her obvious lack of any curvaceous forms, or was it love and lust together. But it felt so deliciously exiting, especially when this powerful ruthless lion everyone was afraid of, purred like a domestic cat when she had his glorious cock in her possession….

She wouldn’t think so much about all of this if Tywin would be in bed with her tonight….

He had visited her chambers late at night …She was usually in bed, face on the pillow, she liked to fake a sleep…when the inevitable came: soft touch of his lips; tickle of his moustache on her neck all the way down her spine, she couldn’t keep herself from murmuring in response and if she didn’t choose to jump on him and take the lead at once, she would be overcome with these sensations obliterating all reality making nothing else matter until he made her reach her peak…

But now alone, she couldn’t stop herself from thinking. And thinking made her rage,  
“Will all these sensual games they were playing be over tomorrow night? The man makes a woman his by coupling with her, that’s why the girl should stay virgin before the ceremony, and the dammed consummation, is like the celebration of man’s dominance. And a man as dominating as Tywin, surely will take advantage of this opportunity….”

But the thought of Tywin doing it with her for real made her feel wet and warm between her legs. “Maybe I could manage to jump on top later on and make it even,” Arya reassured herself.

She chased away her rising sexual desire and turned to more practical aspects.

It felt so strange, tomorrow, she will wed the man who could be her grandfather by his age no matter how strong and handsome he still was. It had happened before in the Seven Kingdoms, her aunt Lisa was wed to an older man.

 

He father would never give her away to lord Tywin, and not only because of his age, but because he was disgusted by the killing of Elia and her children and the sacking of the city.

This realization had bittered her mood even more. “Please, forgive me, father. I promise, I’ll do everything possible to avenge you.” She was waiting every day now for the most desirable news from King’s Landing, for the message of Joffrey’s death. Jaqen had promised her this last one, she had faith in this man but she knew it might take one or two months to fulfill the deed. When she would have the opportunity she would get Cersei as well, but she wouldn’t risk her life for it, she just would wait for the right moment…

The third enemy she badly wanted dead was Theon Grayjoy for his betrayal and unspeakable murder of her little brothers. She hated him even more than she did Joffrey and Cersei. Hopefully she would see his head on a spike. She had tricked Tywin in promising it to her. 

She understood very well, to be a lady wife of a Warden of the West and also the King’s Hand wouldn’t be easy for her.

With a boy husband she could afford expressions like “shut up you idiot,” and enjoy his reaction afterwards. A man like Tywin however, demands respect just by his appearance. 

She already learned to think before speaking to him, especially if his bannermen were present so she would sound at least respectful, forget lady-like, it was almost an impossible task for her. 

She had tried once, just to see if could she pull it off by copying Sansa’s style, but Tywin gave her such a look as if she just had cursed instead. So she resolved to flat politeness with Tywin’s silent approval to it.

However, when in bed she braved into calling him by his name. She liked how it slips fluidly from her mouth; Tywin, Tywin…

She felt herself aroused again, “Are you seriously falling for him, stupid girl?” But it did not matter now, and would be more stupid to fight it whatever it was…

But she had promised to herself, if Tywin would betray her trust and would harm Robb, she wouldn’t hesitate killing him…. And no foolish desires would stop her. 

 

It will be a long and tedious ceremony followed by a feast tomorrow, to endure it for several hours, dressed up like a doll, answering politely to congratulations. 

As they were in the middle of war, the feast wouldn’t be sumptuous and long. She hoped there wouldn’t be singers, musicians and dances, as she was miserable in dancing, and Tywin sure was good in it like he was in everything.

If it would be her will, she would reduce everything to the ceremony in the Cept, private dinner and consummation afterwards.

But she owed Tywin, her good behavior. During these two weeks she was practicing archery for a couple of hours every day. It was the first time in her life she was doing it without fear to be caught and dragged back to do some stupid girls activities.

“You are like Lyanna was you age, the look and the attitude,” her uncle Benjen told her when he had visited Winterfell the last time, right before all bad things started to happen.

Lyanna…Then it came to her, she had been crowned as a Queen of Love and Beauty here in Harrenhal by this dammed prince Rhaegar, who kidnapped her and locked her up in the tower afterwards which caused the war in the kingdom, and Lyanna’s death at the end.

Then suddenly a strange idea came to her, maybe it was not an abduction at all, maybe she had fallen for the prince and they had run away together? It wouldn’t surprise her now, if she would learn it was so, as she by herself was behaving very unlike her in this cursed castle.

…………………..

 

He had arrived to the Sept some time ahead, praying silently that nothing would change Arya’s mind and would cause her to rebel at the last minute.

They did not have any critical confrontations lately, she never embarrassed him with any slight in front of his men, she was not too friendly with his bannermen ever, but given to her position she did not need to be so. 

If some disagreements had happened between them she usually backed down under his will, but never failed to retaliate him later the following night with bites and scratches, although, good gods, she never hurt his private parts.

He wondered what would become of his she-wolf after he would make her a real woman.  
He was eager to find out tonight.

The biggest dissention they had was about his royal grandson. He understood her hatred and anger very well, but he couldn’t do anything about it, Joffrey was his own blood so he couldn’t possibly choose between him and his young wife, no matter how strong he felt for Arya now.

When Arya told him about her fight with Joffrey that led to the prince’s humiliation, he understood very well, Joffrey would be less likely to forget it. 

He would do everything to prevent the confrontation between the two of them in the future, the guards he would give Arya wouldn’t listen to anyone’s commands, except his, so she will be safe. And to satisfy Arya’s hunger for revenge, Greyjoy’s head probably would calm her down to some degree. 

………….

Finally, Kevan appeared walking Arya towards him.

It was strange to see Arya so dressed up, and she apparently was not used to it, so she was making her steps a little awkwardly. His people had fulfilled all his commands as they always did, and his girl looked splendid nevertheless in an ivory silky gown embroidered with pears and silver beads. The dense pears net on Arya’s head helped to oversee her short hair.

Arya was looking straight, with a cold mask on her face, he wished it was only because she was aware of curious glances from the spectators who filled the Sept.

He new, she would hate this much attention and even more to come later during the feast. He wished he could do their wedding more private for her sake, but it would provoke more unhealthy speculations that probably already were spreading. 

She met his gaze, rewarding him with a little smile. She sized him up and gave him a smirk. Sure, she never saw him in his deep crimson and gold. Was it too much for her northern austere taste? But he liked the sudden sparkle in her eyes that obliterated her smirk for him…

She took her place at the altar and looked at him calmly during the ceremony. They effortlessly exchanged the seven wows, but when he draped the Lannister cloak around her shoulders, she shuddered for a second.

When his lips touched hers, she slightly opened her lips inviting him for a real kiss and he gave her a good one forgetting all about the numerous eyes focused on them.

He took Arya by the arm and led her out of the Sept and to the great hall of Harrenhal.

When his bannermen bent to kiss her hand and congratulate her, she responded with a cold politeness not even bothering herself to try a false smile. 

Good this part was not long, as not too many people here were entitled to approach them directly, but he could see the hidden annoyance in her huge gray eyes was rising with every congratulation. 

He did not feel guilty any more for making their wedding here during the middle of the war, without the Lannister splendor he could afford.

Arya obviously did not care about the luxury and was not use to the attention, so Casterly Rock wedding, or especially one in The Red Keep, with her less favorite people present, would make her feel miserable.

As his lady wife she must learn to endure the court events with more pleasant attitude shown but it probably would take time for her to adopt. 

He put his arm around Arya’s shoulders and whispered to her, slightly touching her ear with his moustache “Just enjoy the feast now”, it made her smile, she nodded and took a sip of the arbor gold from her goblet. He gestured for food to be brought in…

The musicians played different tunes, but as there were not ladies present, except his lady wife, nobody danced. But he had made sure musicians an even a singer were found for the event, he wanted to do it for Arya. 

He got up and offered Arya his hand, “Would you like to dance, my lady?”

He never saw her so frightened, “Maybe no, I…” she did not know what to say. So, she never put her efforts to learn, this was unacceptable to him. He wouldn’t let her touch arrow and sword until she would learn this basic art everyone of her station should know. However, he wouldn’t voice it to her now of course but he would have his dance with his wife any way.

He leaned towards her and took her hand forcing her to get up, ”Relax and follow my movements.” She did not fight him of course. 

He was holding her tightly against himself almost lifting her from the floor when it was necessary to help her turn in the right moment. She did step on his feet several times, but other that this he enjoyed her closeness. 

People clapped for them and they were back to their seats, he did not comment and Arya was silent with blank expression, hiding her obvious embarrassment.

It was not over for her, as ser Addam Marbrand approached them, “Lady Arya, would you do me the honor of dancing with me if your lord husband wouldn’t object of course,” the man gave him a wary look. 

“I did not finish dancing with my lady wife yet,” he said sharply, got up and offered Arya his hand again. She followed but did not try to conceal her irritation.

“What, if I would forbid you to dance with him it would look like I am possessive of you, if you would refuse him, it would be rude, so we do not have a choice. Just come and learn” 

She was better the second time, did not step on his feet even once and tried to move on her own. The third time she even smiled a little to him and was almost decent. He wouldn’t take away her bow and sword after all. 

 

The men around them were into their cups, he hoped that it wouldn’t be any fool here drunk enough to suggest the bedding ceremony, not that he would let anyone touch his young wife, but he could imagine Arya’s reaction to any degrading sexual comment towards her.

He took Arya’s hand, “We can go now, unless you want more of this blueberry soufflé, my lady,”

She readily agreed, as she probably was annoyed as well by the noisy drunkards and was about to get up. He took her by surprise by picking her up and holding her to his chest. “Tywin,” she murmured with obvious content.

He headed out of the hall to his bedchambers with Arya in his arms and only Kevan to accompany them.

 

When alone in the room, he took his time to undress his young wife, unhooking numerous fastenings of her elaborate dress. When all this silk fell on the floor she signed with genuine relief and stepped out of it at once. 

She pulled off her hairnet, but carefully put it on the table, so he would possibly see her wearing it again.

She was not shy of course, neither was he hesitant, but it still surprised him, that as soon as he stripped her down from her small clothes and put his hand between her legs, she parted her legs and suggestively reached for his cock with her hand. 

As she was already wet for him, and he was hard and ready, he decided to omit their usual play.  
He parted her wet folds with his fingers and started widening her tight entrance by pushing his fingers inside her. She moaned loudly and encircled his neck with her hands. He leaned down and kissed Arya long and deep. 

Then he removed his fingers, nudged his cock against her entrance and slowly started pushing himself inside. It was harder than just fingers, but Arya did not complain and even started pushing herself towards him holding him by his shoulders and curled her legs around him.

He could not resist more and just thrust himself inside her, breaking her maidenhead, making her his wife in truth.

She gave out a short scream, her nails digging hard into his skin. He pulled himself half- way out and hesitated for a second, “Don’t stop,” she hissed, and drew him close, her hands around his back.

Her breath quickened while he was pushing in and out. “Tywin, Tywin,” she moaned into his chest several times. Her muscles tightened around his cock, she bit his nipple hard, scratched his back and went limp at once. He released himself the same moment and crashed beside her.

Tywin lay on his side and pulled Arya tightly to him, caressing her slowly.  
She was so his, when satisfied, no anger or desire to fight him, these were his very special moments with her.

Suddenly a knock to the door interrupted their harmony. 

“Who dares,” he felt anger at once.

“Please forgive me, brother, but it’s urgent,” Kevan’s voice sounded concerned.

“Give me a minute,” Tywin covered Arya with furs, kissed her cheek, got up, put his night robe on, and headed towards the door.


	7. Chapter 7

She thought he would let Kevan come in as Tywin had covered her to protect her dignity, but no, they both had retreated to the solar. 

Just minutes ago she had been relaxing blissfully in Tywin’s arms, her head vacant of worries and regrets on his chest, the happy bride at last, and why not….

Whatever news ser Kevan had, it would be important and not a happy one for Tywin for sure. When he would return he would not be the same affectionate content lion, so their night was ruined. And if it would be the news she was waiting so eagerly, she should put her straight face on and be quiet and careful in words, but not pretending she was sorry as Tywin wouldn’t buy it anyway.

“If it was not about Joffrey, then what could it possibly be? Are we under attack? Did Robb find out about their wedding and is marching towards Harrenhal? It would be a total disaster.” Arya got agitated and tense.

Tywin returned back shortly to her relief. 

“Jaime is here, he lost his sword hand, he has high fever, the maestre is attending him now. I’ll go to see him and I need to talk to the person who brought him here,” her husband tried to sound flat, but the strain in his voice was obvious.

“What, had he escaped from Robb? Did it happen while he was fighting back?” she was so shocked with the news that she did not care about the warning clues in Tywin’s tone.

“No, apparently they got captured by the dammed beast Vargo Hoat and his Bloody Mummers,” Tywin’s voice increased its exertion and volume, “Can’t believe I paid these scum twice than average, I am sending my men after them right now and will have their heads on spikes tomorrow,” Tywin was furious and did not hold his temper back for her any more.

She had a desire to say,” You see, you can’t trust your monsters after all,” targeting Mountain, but instead decided to keep this argument for the future thinking of a better idea to raise:

“But all your men are probably too drunk by now, maybe you should just wait and send Gregor when he returns, he could take the Goat down in no time,” she new, even as a lady Lanister, she shouldn’t interfere in such specific affairs, but it was so tempting to make one monster fight another so she couldn’t keep silence on the matter. 

“Gregor will return in two-three days only,” grumbled Tywin but did not object to her advice. Arya knew he had sent the Mountain and his men away to look for the Brotherhood so they wouldn’t be present at their wedding, very thoughtful of Tywin, indeed.

He changed into a doublet, and to her surprise came to her right before leaving her alone again. He bent and gently touched her lips, “I’ll be back as soon as possible, go to sleep, love.”

“Sorry this has happened to your son,” she said with quiet voice before Tywin disappeared behind the door. 

She did not really care about Cersei’s twin’s well being, but her empathy was not a complete lie.

Jaime was probably the best swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms, and fighting was the only thing he was good at, so what just had befallen him was so tragically ironic. She couldn’t be indifferent to such a sad fact that an excellent swordsman had lost his hand because of this foreign bloody scum who had betrayed her husband so basely.

So, Jaime, evil lion bitch Cersei and the Imp were her good children now. Accordingly, Joffrey, Tommen and Mirsella were her good grandchildren , she did not have anything against the last two…She would laugh at that paradox, if there was not so much hatred and blood between the two families.

She did not object to Tywin as her man, but the Lanister name did not agree with her at all. Maybe when the war would be over she would feel better about it somehow. 

And again, Tywin as a man when he was with her was different than Tywin the merciless lord with everyone else.

In anticipation of their bedding, her heart skipped a beat when Tywin scooped her up, pressed her to his chest, firmly but gently at the same time, shielding her from the curious eyes of all these disgusting drunk men in the hall and she just nestled up to him all the way to their bedchambers hiding her face into his shoulder and feeling well loved and in love as well in that moment.

And the same man, Tywin the lord could give the order to hang his own men just because of some little fault or just out of suspense. She did not care about Tywin’s soldiers; they all were guilty of burning, pillaging and killing innocent people. 

The worst of them was the Mountain, but unfortunately he seemed never to displease Tywin to such a degree that would prompt the Lord to punish him. Arya tried to advocate for peasants before the Mountain’s last departure. 

“We need the labor here, especially people with a trade so restrain your blood-thirst,” commanded Tywin to his monster in front of her. “Are you satisfied now?” he said to her sharply after the Mountain left. 

It was a little victory. Tywin could be practically reasonable, even if he did not truly care, but to be humane towards the weak just because they are humans he probably would never be.

It saddened her greatly and she understood now why she got so mad at Dasha at her actually logical suggestion, that lord Tywin could be as a father for her as well as the husband because of his age. She should apologize tomorrow to the poor woman for her outrage.

Yes, Tywin was protective and instructive, even forceful if he needed to, like his wedding “dance lesson,” and he was probably right in his harsh approach, as she had learned to dance today to her own surprise.

She respected Tywin’s authority, but she couldn’t compare him to her father, as her father was one of probably few lords who actually cared about the little folk’s well being.

Tywin came back in an hour or two while she was still awake. “Jaime is sleeping, the maester gave him milk of poppy. He cut off the infected part of his stump,” her husband had enlightened her even before she could voice the question. The lion sounded tired and tense.

He filled his goblet with Dornish red and drank it unusually fast.

“Your mother’s tactics are beyond my comprehension,” he started with sarcastic tone, “She took Jaime’s word to give you and Sansa back to this …knight, after they would reach the King’s Landing. But, if lady Catelyn would trust my son’s word why had she insisted on keeping him restrained for the journey? If she didn’t trust him why had she sent him in the first place with this ridiculous woman knight who would be overpowered at King’s Landing and the promise possibly not honored.” 

“A woman knight?” she was excited.

Tywin finished his wine and began undressing himself,

“I expected your reaction, so I was nice to lady Brienne in spite of her multiple insolences. Plus, she had enough sense to bring my son here, and she managed their escape from the Bloody Mummers thus it counts for something,” his voice was back to his normal flat already, “As your mother’s sworn shield, she could be a good protection to you and a training yard companion as well,” he concluded calmly.

Tywin stripped from his last garments and laid beside her. What should she do now, should she coax her husband somehow? After what he had just dealt with he would be probably offended with any sexual notions from her so she should hide her desire, what started to rice again. 

But he would appreciate a little touch and she wanted his touch to quiet her inconsistent emotions, so she moved towards Tywin and carefully put her head on his shoulder. He enveloped his arm around her and nuzzled in her hair.

……………..

 

He watched from afar Arya and Brienne were conversing vividly while walking towards the training yard. He was glad to see his young wife happy, plus he preferred a female companion for her anyway. 

They took to each over immediately, no surprise to him, as these two had the same attitude to play men’s games. But his Arya, although much younger was already much more sharp and sophisticated that this big “Welch” as he overheard his son calling lady Brienne straight to her face. 

He was surprised that the next day after their wedding she found his girl reading chronicles of three hundred years old events which had resulted in the Stark king of the North pledging fealty to the Targaryen King.

She had asked him about a couple of terms she misunderstood with shy embarrassment that made him smile, only a few of his bannerman could read such historical books at all, and they did not feel any shame at all. 

She still did not like the idea of her brother bending the knee, but as the Iron born were raiding the shore now and offering to side with the Iron Throne against Starks, she lightened up to the idea.

His Arya, his wolf girl, who was growing on him more and more each single day and he just prayed everything would go smooth according to the treaties and also his vigor wouldn’t decrease any time soon.

 

Jaime was a big disappointment to him, he was steadfast in his decision to keep his White Cloak and fulfill this dammed vow to return Sansa. 

It would be perfect to have Sansa Stark in the Lannister family as it would secure the future peace on witch he was sure the upstart king would agree now. 

As Jaime was refusing to wed her, Lancer or Tyrion would fit just as well. No doubt that his she-wolf would fight him teeth and claws against the last one.

Another option was just to give Sansa to the Young Wolf as a token of his peace offering along with lord Eddar’s Ice. 

Would it be a display of foolish softness, or it would it be an act of rational kindness that would pay for itself off in the future? 

He felt bitter disappointment towards his golden twins; their indiscretion was obvious to him now, as the maid of Tarth had confronted him with the blunt truth that Jaime had confessed to lady Catelyn. 

It took him some mental effort to mix a good threat with some portion of simple logic to make this fickheaded abomination of a woman to understand the consequences of talking about it and especially of revealing it to Arya.

As he could see, Brienne could hold to her word, as Arya did not try to attack and finish his son off for pushing her little brother down the tower window back in Winterfell.

 

In spite of whatever Jaime had done, he was his first born, and he was Joanna’s son. If he and Arya would have sons one day, he would secure their future for sure, but to give Casterly Rock to Jaime would be a fare tribute to his deceased wife. 

Jaime was recuperating well, but he was in a sulking mood most of the time when not arguing with Brienne of Tarth. 

Tywin found him seating on the rampart with flagon of wine and observing absently the courtyard’s routine. He would try this compromise with him and if it would work it would be win-win situation.

He approached his son and put his hand on Jaime’s shoulder, “If you would agree to become my heir, I’ll return Sansa Stark to her mother. I am sure you would be as great a lord as you had been a swordsman before.” 

“But I don’t want to be forced into marriage, father.” Jaime said firmly.

“You could choose your wife for yourself, as long as she would be of high birth and not your sister, it would be sufficient to me.”

To his relief Jaime agreed with an indifferent nod after a long silence.

………………..

 

Arya felt irritated again, what was this Jaime trying to prove to her? She was fed up with his stupid “my little good mother” kind of mockery.

She was surprised by Brienne’s attempt to cool her down, “We were really concerned about you, as you was so negative with us, Jaime just got frustrated.”

“We,” and “Jaime” instead of “Kingslayer,” as Brienne was calling her good son most of the time …very nice, so her mother’s sworn sword teamed up with the Lannister to save her from the Lannister, and it was her fault that she did not want to be saved.

The interaction of these two was so suspiciously strange; she would watch them close, it was real fun to observe their squabbles.

 

“I am truly sorry we were already too late,” said Jaime during their first conversation several days ago. He sounded totally unlike himself, almost apologetic. 

Why was he so concerned about keeping his promise? He had lost his hand because he couldn’t defend himself properly, she would be angry as hell if it would be her.

And Jaime was a Lannister, so why he would care about any of Stark’s well being, unless he felt guilty about something, something really bad he had done to her family. Well, she would find out soon or later anyway.

As Jaime and Brienne together had pressed the issue of her being forced to wed lord Tywin, she withstood this falsehood firmly, 

“We said our vows, and the marriage was consummated properly and not against my will, please mind it, both of you,” she did not even blush at such straightforwardness of her own words.

Jaime returned to his arrogant self after this conversation, and Brienne just was Brienne, distrustful and stubborn. 

It took Arya several days and one “accidentally” shown display of her affection towards her husband, to make the Maid of Tarth stop pondering her absurd ideas about saving Arya from him somehow and delivering her to lady Catelyn.

But in everything else Brienne was the coolest friend she ever had, she did not gossip, did not do embroidery, was not into courtesies, and could show her many interesting things in the training yard.

“Do you have a thing for the Kingslayer, Brienne?” Arya startled the big girl just to be spiteful for supporting Jaime. 

“Of course not, Arya, how could you even think so,” but the knight’s pink cheeks turned purple nevertheless. 

……………

Tywin did not have much time to ponder about his next action, he should march his forces immediately towards King’s Landing if he wanted to save the throne for the Lannisters. 

He gave the command to get troops ready to depart and went to talk to Arya. He should probably send his wife to Casterly Rock, his sister Genna would keep an eye on her there, or leave Arya here in Harrenhal, until it would be safe to bring her to the Red Keep. 

But he could anticipate, Arya wouldn’t take it lightly to be sent away like this, and he admitted to himself, not being with his she-wolf for any prolonged time did not appeal to him at all plus, the roads weren’t safe now for a small retinue. 

“It would be two days of fast riding, with just a few short stops for some rest. I hate putting you through such ordeal,” he pointed out to her after explaining the situation. 

Well, he already knew her answer.


	8. Chapter 8

Her lord husband looked magnificent in his splendid armor, his shoulders seemed even more broader than they already were, and his form more mighty but graceful nevertheless because of his majestic seat on the horse most men were lacking. He was towering over her on his enormous white stallion, so she was forced to look up to him.

She couldn’t resist lingering her eyes on him a little bit longer; it was a mistake, as he caught her obviously admiring glance. His stern expression changed for a second for a little satisfactory smile with just a corner of his strained lips, nobody would have even noticed, but she knew her man well enough to register his little triumph over her. 

She rode away from Tywin feeling embarrassed, she couldn’t expect he would pay a heed to her now at all when his mind was so burdened about the forthcoming encounter with Stannis army.

She looked a far cry from magnificent, as the riding outfit she had commissioned for herself was not ready yet. It was supposed to be a doublet made from a rich black velvet fabric and soft black leather vest with silver clasps and fur trimming.

Now she was just clad in something that her handmaiden had found weeks ago on her “closet’s raid,” in something that was probably made for some average squire and did not compliment the lady of Casterly Rock at all…

When there was just the two of them she never experienced lack of self-confidence, as Tywin never belittled her by any means. 

He never smirked about her messy horror of hair after their lovemaking just smoothed it gently while caressing her. 

He never wished her breasts or hips would be bigger, just had told her as a matter of fact, she was not ready for caring a child yet, so she should take some portion the maester made for her. 

Unfortunately she could be “a boy” only in the training yard or while riding. Well, most lords wouldn’t let their lady wives behave and dress such at all, even Brienne agreed so, and she had a biased opinion about lord Tywin.

However she did try to look her best in these stupid dresses her lord husband had managed to provide her somehow but she could feel contempt, although hidden of course, from some of his bannermen. 

She was not sure, was it because they still remembered her as a cupbearer, and seeing her occasionally dressed as a boy did not help them to forget it, or because she did not look like a woman grown even in her luxurious dresses, or they just despised her as the Stark consumed by the Lion?

She shouldn’t ponder about it though as it was nothing compared to the degrading remarks and mocking looks Brienne had been suffering since the day she donned her gown for the mail. 

Her new friend told her some sad stories of her life, and although she admired Brienne for her skills and strength, she felt compassion for her as well, she was five years older that Arya, but so hopelessly naïve and inflexible. 

Arya approached the lady knight, who was on the big horse too, not as big as Tywin’s thus, but as she was taller then most of the men, Arya was forced to look up at her as well. 

Brienne was sulking, her face expression was heavy, and her usually sparkling blue eyes were dark stormy with some unpleasant reminiscences.

Arya knew her friend was probably tortured between her oath-to keep to lady Catelyn and the desire to kill Stannis to revenge her beloved king Renly.

……………..

Well, lord Tywin made sure Brienne would stick to the task keeping Arya safe not because he would care about her vows of course, but because he strongly opposed the idea of women fighting on battlefield. 

Tywin perceived the woman knight as a nuisance though unlike some other men, he never disrespected her upright to her face, but he let Arya know his opinion once,

“Don’t even think I would let you go so far in your follies, archery and a light rapier its all you can do, only as a sport of course, so don’t even try to match with this Brienne The Beauty. She is trice bigger that you and virtually unfuckable, so she should get her frustration out somehow,” he declared offhandedly. 

Arya hated her friend being a target of such cruel remarks, although on different occasions she liked Tywin’s blatant straightforwardness. If he made a rare joke it was usually sharp and derogatory, but mostly right in the target.

She never blushed on strong language and was proud he could express himself with her regardless of her gender and did not treat her like a stupid little lady when they were alone. 

She bit her lip and said to him, ”Brienne has other good qualities in her.”

“Yes, like reasonable wide hips so she could probably breed strong sons,” replied her husband with a smirk. 

Arya couldn’t find any valuable smart response on hand at that moment. So she just glared at him with exaggerated anger and made a strange wish, that Jaime would wed Brienne in the future and she would smirk at Tywin’s reaction then.

…………….

 

“Think about me, in King’s Landing I will be forced to be polite with people I wish dead, even worst, they are my good family now…”

She was turned between so many feelings by herself, she wanted to be by her husband’s side during the battle, to see him in all his glory, stupid notion of course, and Tywin had dismissed the idea without even letting her begin auguring, overprotective he was, although he wouldn’t be in the vanguard line, so he would be relatively safe.

Yes, she wanted him to win, but he will be fighting for Joffrey and Cersey, so she felt guilty for being on his side.

 

“Maybe Joffrey would be killed the same way as Renly had been,” this thought was pleasant enough to even make her smile a little. 

“But what if it would happened to Tywin,” the realization of such possibility struck her hard. 

The mere thought that something would go wrong and Tywin could be defeated; captured or killed gave her queasy feelings. 

And she was the one who told him once, that everyone could be killed…

………..

 

“ I had failed to protect Renly, now I am failing your mother as you are already wed and so resolved to stay with your husband,” retorted Brienne surly.

“I’ll explain to my mother, that it’s my fault, not yours. Everything was always my fault, or Jon’s fault, so she wouldn’t be surprised and believe me, she would be more happy with only flawless Sansa back to her side,” Arya said with a bitter smile.

“Don’t be like this, Arya, lady Catelyn does love both of you equally, and she even was worried about you more, as you are the troublesome one and can’t keep your temper in check.”

“It’s my well deserved reputation, I guess. Tywin took my word, that I wouldn’t do anything foolish in the Red Keep, wouldn’t try to attack Joffrey or Cersey, and that I would speak to them in civilized manned, can you imagine, he did not even insist on respectful, just civilized.” 

“So, you gave him your word.” Brienne said glumly.

“What else could I do? If I wouldn’t he would send me to Casterly Rock with the promise to visit twice per year or so...”

“You do feel for him then, what’s why you did such an undoing to your family by consenting so easily to wed him in the first place.”

The accusation had truth in it, but she felt irritated at how Brienne put it all together,

“My family? Well, as I had learned, my brother did not think about our safety much, did not even think about exchanging the Kingslayer for us, my mother did it over his head. 

I do believe she was truly concerned about us, but the only use she and Robb could have of us girls, after the joy of the happy reunion would be worn out, would be to wed us for political reasons.

And as I am already wed and ruined for this particular purpose, my absence wouldn’t be a big disappointment for them,” she concluded angrily. 

“I hope at least Sansa would go back to her mother, unwed and untouched, otherwise lady’s Catelyn’s heart would be completely broken,” Brienne started to sound agitated.

“Calm down, I’ll fight Tywin if he would try to do something against Sansa’s will, he knows it very well.”

“I did not expect Jaime would turn down his father’s suggestion to marry Sansa maybe he does have some honor in him afterwards,” Brienne said reluctantly.

“Tywin will try to persuade him, but not forcefully, I am sure about it,” Arya knew her husband better, “But what are we going to do, if these two would like each other?” she gave Brienne an inquiring look and watched how her friend’s expression tensed.

“You know, the position of the future lady of Casterly Rock is not a bad one,” she continued, “and Sansa is all about becoming a great lady, at least this is how I remember her last, she was so eager to became a queen, that she made herself believe she was in love with such a sadistic coward as Joffrey.” 

“Maybe he was good to her at that time, and she did not care about the others, your husband is good to you, but he is the same in terms of cruelty to others,” suggested Brienne bluntly.

It was a painful truth in Brienne’s words again, but there was no way to compare her husband with a piece of shit like Joffrey.

“Tywin would fight for his family name and would protect his family regardless of whatever their wrongs. I know, it’s not very honorable, but it is Lannister honor, I guess,” she explained, hinting at how really safe she felt with Tywin.

“But Joffrey doesn’t have even a tiny bit of this Lannister honor. I remember how abusive he was with his younger siblings especially with poor soft Tommen,” 

It was really sad to observe, she remembered how Tommen had cried after his monster of a brother had skinned his pet fawn, and Joffrey’s threats to kill his kittens with an arrow kept the little boy in a constant terror.

“Sansa could be abused now as well,” Brienne just voiced Arya’s thoughts.

Although Arya was averse to Sansa as a person, she did love her as a sister, not as much as her other siblings, but still, and she did worry about her in the Red Keep all by herself knowing both Joffrey and Cersey could be cruel to Sansa in spite of all her stupid courtesies.

Well, if Jaqen wouldn’t fulfill his promise soon, she would find some way to finish Joffrey off.

 

………………..

 

 

The tent was small but it was a tent, only a few in the party had such luxury. Tywin’s squire was helping him with his armor by undoing the elaborate fastenings.

“Let me try,” Arya approached him and started helping without waiting for an invitation.

He wanted to stop her, but remembering how Arya had looked at him earlier decided to let her fulfill her curiosity about his splendid armor, she was still such a child in some ways after all. 

As soon as the boy left, Arya jumped on his lap twisting her arms around his neck, “Hope you did not mind me playing your squire, a big promotion from being your cupbearer,” she tried to joke, but she sounded unusually strained.

She planted soft kisses on his face, caressing his chest and shoulders over his clothes. He still felt the weight of the metal but Arya’s touches were releasing him gradually. 

Arya’s playfulness was too gentle and even hesitant for the Arya he knew and he couldn’t sense the usual spark of desire in her. 

“If you wouldn’t be my lady wife I might let you squire for me,” he pulled Arya close to his chest and she stilled in his embrace.

“She is anxious for me in the oncoming battle and doesn’t know how to behave,” he realized and he was mesmerized with joy. 

He shook the feeling off, how many times had he caught himself lately searching for every proof of her true feelings towards him, like the hungry probably search for bread, and here he was clinging desperately to these sincere displays of non sexual affection. 

“I will be all right, everything is planned, almost no risk,” he reassured her quietly.

“Please, be all right,” she hugged him back tightly and looked up to him with her huge gray eyes full of worries.

He new it was already too much for Arya to voice and express, but it was enough for him to make his day. 

“Let’s go eat, we have only five-six hours, and we need get some sleep too,” he suggested after kissing Arya’s lips.

…………..

She was having that strange wolf dream again, she had six or seven of them recently. 

It felt so strange to have four powerful furry paws instead of familiar legs and arms, to recognize thousands of smells unknown to the human Arya, to rip the throat of the prey without any remorse and savor the taste of the warm blood and flesh while it still holds the last breath of life in it. 

The first time she was horrified of this realization of her dream so close with reality, that she forced herself to wake up with an effort and after a strange jolt she felt her human body again. 

It had happened the first time before they were wed, Tywin had already left her chambers so she just curled against the pillow still feeling the taste of blood in her already human mouth, afraid to fell asleep again….

The wolf dream had happened again in a few days, but her inquisitiveness took over that second time and she tried to pay attention to surroundings instead of just forcing herself to wake up.

She learned she was a leader of the big wolf pack, and that she was much bigger that her brothers and sisters, probably a direwolf. Was she dreaming about being in Nymeria?

She felt bolder in her wolf explorations with each next dream, and as she was always able to wake up afterwards, with the same strange jolt, she was not afraid any more.

Tonight it was unusual, she had left her pack behind and was following some familiar scent alongside the road until she reached the strong conjecture of smells: horses, metal, multiple humans, cooked meat, died fire. 

Among all these smells she could detect something she knew, although couldn’t understand what it was yet.

As the wolf, she dreamed herself to be, was not hungry at the moment she could concentrate to observe and explore carefully.

The clearing the smells came from was guarded by several soldiers on the side close to the road, so she quietly sneaked in from the opposite forest side where just two men were watching very far from each other.

She looked around and proceeded cautiously to not scare the horses. 

It was her own camp to her surprise. She saw men were sleeping on the ground and horses were resting by. She saw several little tents in the center; Tywin’s the bigger one, the guard by its entrance. Tywin’s white horse was so visible at night, and her own brown one was blending in…. 

It was the strangest dream ever even for a wolf dream. It was so freaking real, like not a dream at all, so she decided to wake up and check it out.

Within seconds she was a human again. She carefully disentangled herself from Tywin’s embrace and went outside, it was easy as she was fully dressed and even had her boots on.

If it was not a dream, she really was in her Nymeria’s body, and thus she was a varg after all, the one from old Nan’s tales. 

The guard followed her of course, but at a safe distance, probably thinking she would want to take a piss.

“Nymeria,” she called out. 

In a second a huge direwolf the size of pony was trotting towards her, but surprisingly she was not afraid at all. 

………….

He woke up with the sound of horses screaming and men shouting. Arya was not with him. He was out of the tent in a second, with his sword unleashed. 

All he could see in the moonlight was the dark shape of some huge creature and Arya’s hands embracing his neck. The creature that looked as a monstrous wolf was actually on top of her.

Several men had the swords ready, but were hesitant to attack.

“Stay back, you idiots,” she shouted, lifting herself up from the ground but still holding the creature, “if you’ll harm her, I’ll kill you.” 

Was it her notorious wolf that bit Joffrey? He continued moving slowly towards them. At least his wife was not in danger

When she saw him approaching she sprung on top of the creature, protecting the direwolf with her tiny body, “You should kill me first,” his girl rasped at him, “If you try to harm her…

“I don’t have such intentions,” not letting Arya continue with further threats, as she was clearly not too reasonable at the moment. 

“Sheath your sword then,” she demanded

“The scabbard is in the tent. Are you sure you still can control your wolf, Nymeria is her name, right, after she had been in the wild for so long?” he stopped in five-six meters from them and pointed his sword to the ground.

Arya got off Nymeria and they both stood side by side, looking at him. Gods, this monstrosity was almost as tall as Arya, she could easily ride her direwolf instead of her horse, he almost smirked on such a thought.

“Nymeria, sit,” commanded Arya. 

To his surprise, Nymeria sat on her haunches. 

“I did not expect her to remember commands,” said Arya. She was calmer now.

“Try to persuade her to go back to the forest, Red Keep is not a good place for her, plus she has enemies there who would wish her dead.”

“I’ll try, but I will not throw stones at her,” replied Arya

“You better not. I am going back to the tent and will try to sleep some more. Come back after you’ll deal with your… companion.”

He walked back to the tent, dismissing the terrified but curious crowd of his men on his way.

It will be a lot of talk about his wife but they would respect her now for sure, even he was impressed by his little wife’s capacity to control such a beast.

He was not afraid for Arya’s safety, these two were connected, it was obvious. He had a feeling, Nymeria wasn’t going anywhere, and he would have one more problem to deal with. 

But seven hells, this creature could be as strong and as capable as eight-ten professional guards, and probably more faithful that any human could be. And he appreciated such qualities.


	9. Chapter 9

“She doesn’t want to go away, so I made her stay outside by the tent’s entrance,” Arya was back to him in fifteen minutes or so. 

“I let our guard move close to ser Keven’s tent, if you don’t mind,” she continued and sat down on the edge of her bedroll.

So, now Nimerya could just walk in wherever she wishes to. 

“Would she even let me leave the tent without you?” he asked Arya angrily.

“What? She wouldn’t attack you unless you would be aggressive towards me. She had smelled you on me, she knows, you are my mate.”

“Your mate am I, very well,” the rage suddenly trigged the wave of desire,” let see, would she try to attack me if I take you right now,” he pulled Arya towards himself. He new he was taking chances, but seven hells, this was his camp, his tent and his wife.  
……………….

So now she should deal with aggressive-possessive Tywin… 

When Tywin came out of the tent and found her with Nymeria, she was surprised with his calmness, but he definitely didn’t appreciate loosing some control and was rebounding now. 

Because of the given circumstances she wouldn’t fight him tonight.

His “I’ll take you right now” action had happened already once when they got into hearty arguments one evening, to remind her that she belonged to him.

It was not exactly a rape, he just forcefully caressed her until she was wet and ready...Her unwilling willingness did not save her lord husband from her claws and teeth afterwards….

“I thought you need to get some sleep, seriously, Tywin,“ she tried to reason meekly submitting to his embrace and even opening her lips to let his tongue in.

She was not in a sexy mood tonight, neither was Tywin prior to Nimeria’s appearing, his embrace was innocent, kind of paternal. 

Maybe the desire could come back to her, as the magic of Tywin’s touch never failed to work on her before.

It proved to be a truth, although the myriads of troubling thoughts did not let her relax properly. 

Now after reuniting with Nymeria, she felt whole and strong, although she was still freaking out about the sudden revelation of the varg thing. 

The only person she could confide with this was Jon, and he was miles away. And sure, Tywin should never suspect her ability.

Could she trust Tywin with Nymeria at all? Would he tolerate her presence? What if he would try to kill her, he was a Lannister after all.

What if Nymeria would choose to attack him? Would she be able to stop her?

She couldn’t let her eyes go from the entrance, as Tywin proceeded pulling her pants down and playing with her nub and folds…

“What are you doing?” she felt irritated as Tywin turned her around and forced her on her knees. 

“Just want to fuck you like your true mate, it’s all, like wolves and lions do,”

“Are you retaliating my choice of words?” 

“Just taking you on your words,”

He put the nape of her neck in his mouth and while holding it with his teeth worked his tongue on the spot. It brought the uncontrolled shiver down her spine.

She wanted to feel angry but when he started entering her wile holding her mount with his palm and stroking her nub with his finger at the same time, her last defenses slipped out of her and his cock slipped in easily.

So it happened again, she did belong to him, at least her body considered so. 

The position of their intercourse did not appeal to her at all, and she did not like to do it fully clothed ever, it was like a tease, as she was lacking the feel of his skin, the view of his chest, his neck, his face, and of course the availability of all these parts.

A couple of moans escaped her nevertheless, and Nymerya dashed inside, growling and ready to defend her.

“Nymerya, stop, I’m all right. Out, Nymerya,” 

………….

Why was he doing it, provoking her wolf, who doesn’t know him yet? As Arya was yielding to him, his rage was leaving him gradually.

His desire and his strength subdued as well, he shouldn’t start it at all, as tired tense and overwhelmed with the oncoming battle he was. 

As he already successfully aroused his wolf girl, it was not good at all.

The same second the first sounds escaped Arya, her beast was inside the tent, approaching and ready to charge. 

He got off Arya ready to grab the dagger, that he had left unsheathed by his side, but Nymerya obeyed the command, she stopped and backed up, although she was still growling low and reluctant to leave.

“Nymerya, out,” his little wife was firm with her giant wolf.

The direwolf backed up to the entrance, but did not cease her alarming sound.

“Shut up, Nymerya, I am not hurting your mistress, you should know better,” he said to his own surprise. 

“What, am I talking to the wolf?” he thought to himself, all his actions tonight were unlike him.

Nymerya looked at him, her eyes were glowing, he thought she would charge, and he extended his hand towards the dagger.

 

“Nymeria, out,” repeated Arya, her wolf obeyed at last and left the tent. But she did not go away of course; just lay down leaning on the tent’s side, her huge body was outlined in the thick fabric. 

“She doesn’t know you yet, she will respect you eventually, I don’t have any doubts about it,” Arya said quietly and pulled her pants up to his relief.

“I let you keep her, but you should work more on her obedience. And of course I will not have her in our bedroom,” he tried to sound stern. 

Arya just nodded silently to his demand. 

Her next action was a big surprise to him, as his girl curled up to him. 

She did it only when she was blissfully satisfied and sure he was already sleeping, or at least believing him to be so. 

 

 

 

…………………

 

Arya did not shift into her wolf, just slept peacefully in her husband’s arms till early dawn. 

She woke up when she felt something wet on her neck and cheek. It was Nymeria poking her with her muzzle.

As her wolf saw her open her eyes, she trotted towards the exit, looking at her expectantly. Arya could hear the camp was already up.

“What, she is here again?” Tywin woke up too and was not pleased at all.

She ignored him and followed Nymeria outside, ser Kevan was waiting there. 

“Your wolf is amazing, lady Arya, she did not let me approach, but she actually understood me and did the right thing by calling you.”

“She should call for your brother instead, but they aren’t acquainted yet, Ser,” she smiled at Kevan.

“Looks like your wolf is not useless at all,”Tywin was already by her side and had a better attitude. He greeted Kevan who informed him that the men would be ready to march in twenty minutes.

Nymeria approached Tywin and sniffed him without touching. Then she did the same with Kevan.

She landed to the same spot by the tent afterwards not ever bothering herself with the increasing sounds around her.

“You see she is getting to know you gradually. Sure, she would keep a distance for a while, but you wouldn’t care about touching her any way, right? You never even pet your Thundercloud.”

“Nonsense, why should I do it? He is a stallion, a war horse, he knows his business and he is treated well.” 

“He likes me to stroke his muzzle and scratch on his neck.”

“Of course, I saw you corrupting my horse with apples.”

Arya gave away a wicked smile; it took her several days to “conquer” this giant beast most stable men were intimidated by…

 

She just hoped the horses wouldn’t be terrified by her direwolf’s presence and Nymeria wouldn’t see them as a prey, who knows what she had been eating all these months in the wild…

 

…………

She was hugging Nymerya, actually burring her face in her thick fur. Every time she was lifting her eyes she could see the burning sky ahead.

“I hope it’s Stannis’s fleet,” her husband commented before leaving her here, less than an hour riding’s distance from the Red Keep, with Brienne and five of his most trusted guards.

Good, her wolf ate something during their previous short stop, Nymeria just left for a half hour and then returned licking blood from her muzzle, so she wouldn’t leave her now for the hunt. 

She was really blessed to have Nymeria by her side; she did not want to separate from her wolf even for a minute. 

She did not want to talk to Brienne now or listen to her speculations about Stannis’s dark powers that could doom any outnumbered forces. 

Tywin promised to send for her when the battle’s outcome would be clear and her safe arrival with a big escort of course could be assured.

And if something goes wrong… Then she should follow his instructions.

“We should win, as the Tyrells had promised the arrival of their forces but only some idiot could guarantee you one hundred percent of success in any battle. Whatever happens to me I want you to be safe…”

He calmly told her what she should do for every possible negative outcome.

She was shivering every time she was recalling how casually her husband sounded...

“If I will be captured promise you will not try to free me, you will stay away from Stannis as far as possible.”

She gave him a promise to stay away from Stannis, but she wouldn’t let Tywin rot in a dungeon, if such a thing would happen she would try to capture Stannis’s little daughter and exchange her for Tywin.

He told her that among Lannisters she could only trust ser Kevan and lady Genna, as they would respect his will and wouldn’t use her as a hostage.

“If I don’t survive,” he even considered this possibility with the same flat tone, “I want you to have this in case nothing else would hold you here in Westeros any longer,” he handled her a little parchment…

He greatly surprised her by such care, and now, thinking and rethinking all this options, she wanted nothing more than Tywin’s victory, to be back to her husband as soon as possible, in spite of all the complications she would have in the court because of her new good-family, being her deadly enemies nevertheless. 

She realized she did love Tywin, even the option of freedom and immense wealth across the sea couldn’t lure her to wish him ill. 

She did not doubt his love for her ever, although he was reserved to display it or to voice it while he instructed her, but his eyes were fixed on her all the time, like he was trying to absorb and take with him every part of her.

She couldn’t bring herself to say these simple words of love ever. But she did behave irrationally at the last minute before his departure, just couldn’t help herself. 

Tywin was about to mount his horse, as she rushed towards him and jumped on him, hugging him tightly and hurting herself from his armor. She definitely behaved like a child, not like a woman grown, and she berated herself afterwards for it.

He was not displeased by her notion; held her for a second then took her face in his gloved hands, 

“Do not overstate my words, I am pretty sure everything will go as I planned, but do understand my position, I must prepare you for every possibility,” he leaned down and kissed her forehead, then slightly touched her lips.  
…………..

He got on Thundercloud, “I’ll send for you as soon as possible,” suddenly ashamed of his coldness, but Arya already composed herself and waived him goodbye with the casual smile.

Now he was sure his girl felt for him, but they both were alike, too reserved about the simple love words.

 

Arya had asked him the other day if he would ever consider the possibility of his resigning from the position of the Hand. He could understand her intentions and attitude against living in the Red Keep.

If it would be only up to his desire, he would gladly take Arya to Casterly Rock, she would love it there. Smart as she was she would be a good help to him to rule his castle and lands, and they could have plenty of time for themselves…

But the reality was less appealing indeed: to protect his family against enemies; to redeem the Lannister name again and to secure his grandson on the Iron Throne.

He did not know Joffrey much, but the report he had received from his trusted source was alarming, although it was carefully written so do not accidentally provoke his wrath.

To win the battle with Stannis today seemed an easy task compared with the daily job he will have afterwards as the king’s Hand to make this spoiled brat come to senses and to mold him into the reasonable king afterwards.


	10. Chapter 10

When she heard the riders were approaching, she got off Nymeria to get a better look. Ser Kevan was leading the group of about twenty Lannister men. Why him? 

She rushed towards his good-brother,” Is Tywin all right?” forgetting to use the title she always added to her husband’s name in public.

Kevan gave her a warm smile, “He is all right indeed, and hopefully the battle will be over when we’ll arrive. Our big escort is in case we would meet with some retreating Stannis’s men.”

Closer to King’s Landing the outrider informed them about the latest news from the battlefield and gave them assurance of safe passage to the castle. 

The air was heavy with the smell of burning. Cries of suffering and dying men sounded a cacophony with clanking metal and neighing of horses. Inside the city the stench become so abominable, that Arya was glad she had not eat recently.

Nymeria trotted quietly by her side and did not seem to be distracted by the sounds and smells of the battle. She was Arya’s only companion this last hour, as the other riders kept their measured distance from the wolf. 

To make the ride possible Arya was forced to blindfold her poor horse right after it kicked up its heels on her attempt to mount with Nymeria by her side.

The only rider who could be in her company without any precautions was her lord husband whose Thundercloud did not pay a heed to Nymeria’s presence. Well, he had snorted and kicked the ground with his front hoof when first seeing the direwolf but afterwards as Nymeria was just peacefully trotting alongside he decided to simply ignore her.

Ser Kevan accompanied her to the Hand’s tower where she accommodated Nymeria in the fenced part of the yard to the utter horror of the serving staff.

Arya firmly refused the suggestion to chain her girl, “She will be quiet, just give her something to eat,” she commanded.

She hugged her furry friend tightly, ”Stay and wait for me here, Nymeria.” If it would be up to her she would take Nymeria with her everywhere, but she understood very well to better not provoke Cersei and Joffrey.

She couldn’t find it in herself to go inside the tower right away; she would do it eventually, why else had she volunteered to be by Tywin’s side.

So she went off to look for Sansa to Maegon’s holdfast, where the highborn ladies were still gathering together.

 

“Have you seen Sansa Stark by chance?” she asked after unsuccessfully looking around. 

“She left about an hour ago, and who are you, boy?” some young lady asked her.

“Actually I am lady Sansa’s sister, and not a boy.

“But you are dressed like a squire and even have a sword,” said the bewildered woman without apologizing. So they were ignorant of her new status here yet. She smirked,

“My lady, if you ever had rode sixteen hours per day, you would probably know that it is more convenient to do so by wearing britches.”

“And what about your sword, did you fight along the men too?” 

“You overestimate me, my lady, but I do know how to use it,” she started getting irritated by offhanded stupidity.

“I don’t understand, you are suppose to be a prisoner, and are you not guarded by the way?,” another woman interfered annoyingly. 

“Is it not obvious, lady, if I would be a prisoner, would I be allowed to carry a  
weapon?” she answered sharply.

“Show me to my sister’s chambers,” she ordered calmly to her escort. 

“Let me find the directions, my lady,” one of her guards bowed to her and went to look for someone who could help them.

The ladies were obviously shocked by such display of respect and were curiously sizing her up probably perplexed about whatever her new status could be and what kind of courtesies it would require from them.

“I am glad you are well, lady Arya, please forgive me my assumptions,” the second lady was trying to smooth her rudeness.

“Your sister lady Sansa had really inspired us with her bravery and composure when the last hope was about to leave us,” the older lady stated with a smile.

“Sure, she is a Stark after all,” replied Arya sure voiced and watched with satisfaction how the women’s faces froze at her boldness.

Well, it was obvious that her family name bore unfair stigma here in the Red Keep, she would see to redeeming it rightfully.

They went off and she started feeling butterflies in her belly. Just several months ago they both couldn’t stand each other’s company, not talking about being loving sisters…

Before the misfortunes had befallen Starks, she took her family for granted. But recently she rethought a lot and she promised herself to be more accepting. 

Sure, she had provoked Sansa a lot in the past. She regretted now some of her childish pranks played on Sansa, which probably had turned her sister against her.

Was Sansa sorry too: for teaming up with her stupid friend Jeyne against her, for lying in Joffrey’s favor….

Would Sansa be the same superficial but perfect lady, judgmental and snobby? Who she would be for Sansa now: A lady of high station, Arya Horseface, or just the dear sister at last? She hoped for the latter… 

The last person she wanted to meet here now was Cersei in Lord Tywin’s company.

“You promised to be civilized,” she reminded herself calmly. She couldn’t avoid the encounter, as they were heading in her direction.

Her husband’s arm was around his daughter’s back, totally not-lord Tywin-like style to walk in public. The queen’s guards were trailing behind them, but at some distance. 

She noticed they preceded slowly, as the queen had difficulty moving her legs and relied on her father to maintain her balance. Tywin still had some of his armor on, but parted with gauntlets and leg protection.

As they got close, Arya could see the disgust in Tywin’s face, sure, daughter or not, he couldn’t stand people in such a wasted state. So he was saving the Lannister’s honor, she suppressed the smirk.

“My lord!” she happily greeted her husband, she wished he wouldn’t be in such company at that moment. “Your majesty,” she managed flatly without curtsying.

The lioness stopped, her cloudy eyes widened in bewilderment. 

“My dear lady, glad to see your safe arrival. You did not check the accommodations in the Tower yet?” her lord husband was always super polite and respectful to her in public, and she already learned to get along with the game. 

“Congratulations with such splendid victory, my lord! The chambers in the tower aren’t ready yet. I am on my way to see my sister, if you excuse me,” she curtsied slightly ready to pass them by.

“So you captured her and brought her here, father… She had slipped from our hands somehow; I did not want to bother you about it, as you did have problems enough beside searching for some mad she -wolf,” slurred the lioness.

“And you were very wrong for not informing me about it, Cersei,” he gave his daughter an angry gaze.

“Her dammed fencing teacher killed several Lannister men, she herself killed a stable boy who I sent to collect her, probably with the same sword you even did not think to take away from her now, many men were searching for her in vain. 

She deserves a good punishment for all troubles she had caused us, and you are treating her as a honorable guest, I can’t believe it, father” she continued, raising her voice and ignoring his words and attitude.

“Take this Stark girl to the black cell,” she shouted to Arya’s guards, “Couple of weeks in the dungeon will teach her a lesson. Is it not the way to deal with insolent ones like her, you have taught me such, father?” 

“I don’t think the black cell is the right place for my lady wife, and yes, Arya is capable of protecting herself,” Tywin said calmly, but firmly

“And you need to lay down, Cersei,” he tried to push her forwards to make her continue their journey. But the lioness refused to move,

“You, you have married this,” she gave a short laugh of disbelief. 

“I insist you treat my lady wife respectfully, no matter what you personal feelings are towards lady Arya,” Tywin’s voice was sharp, his eyes narrowed.

“I don’t see any lady here, this scrawny thing doesn’t even look like a woman, not the least a lady,” Cersei sized her up with a nasty smirk.

Arya felt something was shrinking inside her; she was Arya Horseface a life ago, now she would be a scrawny thing in the eyes of the court, the lion bitch would make sure of it.

The desire to take out her dagger, jump on Cersei and slowly cut through her perfect throat was almost irresistible. 

“At least I am sober,” Arya replied coldly instead. 

“What, she dares insult the Queen Regent,” the lioness shouted drunkenly.

Tywin ignored her comment.

“You made a mistake, my lord father, if you wanted a young one and a Stark, you could wed her older sister, Sansa, who is a doll to look at always so sweet, demure and submissive by character even feeling guilty for her family’s crimes, Cersei said with sarcastic laughter.

Enough, Cersei,” Tywin growled at her, but she did not pay him a heed. 

““My father was a traitor,” “My brother is a traitor,” your sister is telling everyone even if not asked for the opinion on the matter. She would probably refuse talking to you, as devoted she is to our cause.”

“It couldn’t be the truth,” Arya yield, just couldn’t help herself any more.

“Ask your sister yourself, how she came to me and told me everything about your father’s scheme to send both of you to Winterfell by the sea, how she begged me to prevent her from being separated from Joffrey, poor thing, she still believed she could become his queen one day,” Cersey’s laughter became hysterically triumphant.

“You are lying, she couldn’t betray, you…” 

“Arya, stop, you are the one sober here,” her husband cut her off. Maybe it was for good, as Cersei’s words were probably the truth. 

“My lady, please, return to our tower, the chambers should be cleaned out from Tyrion’s things by now. It is better for your own sake to put off the meeting with your sister till tomorrow morning,” he said softly after a little pause, “I will be back with you shortly, right after I’ll talk to Joffrey.”

She followed Tywin’s advice. In the Hand’s Tower’s quarters she first checked on Nymeria. Her wolf did not cause any troubles, she had eaten already and did not try to attack the frightened servant who brought her some meat. 

She buried her face in Nymeria’s fur, she did not want to believe the dammed Lioness’s words, but her sister already had betrayed her once before for Joffrey.

Sansa had paid a high price for it, had lost her Lady, and Arya, although she was angry with her, she was sorry for her as well. She had found it in herself to forgive her sister.

How could Sansa do it again, knowing already Cersei’s true nature? Did she do it out of ambition or she did really love Joffrey?

Tywin was right, to face her sister tonight would lead surely to a fight between them, as desperate and angry as she felt now.

She kissed Nymeria’s nose,” I’ll leave you for the night, I’ll check on you in the morning, wait for me and be good.” Nymeria whined understandingly and tried to follow her. “Stay,” repeated she more firmly, Nymeria complied reluctantly.

Now Arya should enter the place there the tragedy of her family had started, there she had witnessed the murder of people she knew from the earliest of days that she became aware of herself.

Dammed Cersei, dammed Lannisters. Well, the irony was, she had become a Lannister also. The lame excuse was her husband was not present at the time of massacre but the bloody truth was he would do the same, if he were not attached to her. It was the Lannister’s way to deal with their enemies.

She braved herself up the stairs and into the Hand’s chamber, her father’s former chamber. A few bags were already there; two servant girls bowed to her but couldn’t refrain from gazing at her with annoying curiosity.

“What, never saw a girl dressed like a boy? You better be careful in my lord husband’s presence, he doesn’t tolerate insolence,” her friendly advice probably sounded ominous, as both of them were about to sink to their knees apologetically. 

She stopped them from further stupidities and made one girl help her unpack and take care of the few clothes they brought so they would be wearable tomorrow. 

She sent the second girl to arrange the hot water for the tub, scolding hot, as it wouldn’t become cold before Tywin’s arrival, and something to eat of course. She should do things that were expected from a caring wife, shouldn’t she?

 

………….

 

A good two-three hours passed when he was finally able to leave the palace for the Tower.  
His royal grandson was dead, but he was void of grief and hated himself for such attitude.

Well, first, when he saw the boy’s body he was struck with sorrow and rage for the loss of one so young and his own blood, double his own blood, he concluded bitterly now. 

It looked like a suicide, Joffrey laid face down, his sword had pierced his throat with both hands seizing hold of his sword. 

It happened in Cersei’s private chambers, it was so ironic as she hid him there from the danger of the battle. Ser Meryn who was guarding outside the room did not notice and did not hear anything. Even later under the questioning he did not confess otherwise.

Cersei was writhing in hysterics, shouting clearly frantic demands: to arrest and question Sansa Stark, to send someone to finish wounded Tyrion off.

“Only a man stronger that Joffrey could have possibly done it,” he tried to reason  
with his daughter in vain of course. 

Cercey was raving, woeful and devastated, like every mother would be, but thirsty for blood and revenge like a true lioness. At the end he just forced her to drink the milk of poppy so she could fall asleep.

The questioning of ser Meryn did not clarify the circumstances of the king’s death, but he learned a lot about the true nature of his royal grandson…

Things that weren’t in the report he had obtained previously: Joffrey enjoyed tortures, Joffrey’s disgusting abuse of his own betrothed... 

He by himself never hesitated to punish people, put them to death if he saw the necessity in it. But he never enjoyed the procedure and despised the monsters he had for such a bloody job.

Well, he did humiliate people sometimes just out of some unaccountable angry impulse never understanding afterwards why he had done it. It pained him to recall how he made Arya a witness of such a disgrace…

“Was it my own nature multiplied and twisted to the degree of insanity in the son of my golden twins?” these thought enraged him completely. 

He made a mental effort to stop this ridiculous self-exposure as regretting the deeds was for the sheep, not for the lions.

“Joffrey was a sadistic coward without any sense of dignity and pride, nothing like me at all, with all predispositions to become as mad as Aerys was, or even more,” he concluded with disgust and bitterness.

He entered the Hand’s Tower trying to calm himself down; it was not easy to do as his nerves were strained; his anger was seething under his usual composed facade.

He found Arya seating in the bedchamber by the fireplace watching the flames. She turned her head with a silent question, storm in her big gray eyes. Sure, she was waiting for him for so long….

“Joffrey is dead,” he said simply and sat next to her on the furs. 

Arya stiffened, her effort to maintain neutral expression was so obvious, it suddenly vexed him. 

“I know you are happy to hear it so just relax your facial muscles,” he couldn’t help himself to growl at her, the next second realizing his mistake.

“What do you want from me? I am trying to respect your feelings here. I am not sorry for him being dead, but I am sorry for you grieving for your grandson, so let me say “I am sorry for your loss, my lord,” it would be the proper thing to do, wouldn’t it?” Arya replied sarcastically.

“If she only knew that I can’t bring myself to grieve for him,” he berated himself silently.

“Arya, thank you for not replying accordingly to Cersei’s insults, I’ll make her apologize to you,” he smartly changed the subject and lowered his voice.

“I don’t need her apologies for tonight’s attack which was the least of her wrongs done to me, to my family, so do not even bother, it was not a big deal to me,” she replied irritably.

“It was a big deal to me, Arya. Nobody, even my royal daughter will treat my lady wife such,” he took her hand and tried to kiss it, but Arya jerked it back from him,

“Everything is about you, is it not so?” she was almost yelling at him, “your pride got offended, but we both know, I am insolent and I am not the beauty. The real crime she committed doesn’t bother you at all, you probably know that she put to sword all our men here,” her eyes darkened with anger.

“We can’t do anything to change the past, Arya. Your family had started the confrontation, I was not here at all, and I have just a little request of you, let it all go,” he tried to reason with his she wolf.

“A little request, easy for you to say, but every person who was killed here meant a lot to me. And our people loved us, not simply feared us. My father would never order the massacre of the servants of his enemies, even under the similar circumstances.”

Now her father again… Dammed Eddard Stark with his straightforward honor and no sense of reality. She would never respect and love him like she had loved and respected her father…

“Your father couldn’t even provide your security and foresee your sister’s notion,” he couldn’t restrain himself from speaking.

 

“My father had trusted his family, he couldn’t know…and you Lannisters are so cunning and cruel, I hate you all,” she started breathing heavily, surely on the verge of become hysterical. 

“Enough of it,” he took her in his arms and forced a kiss, it should work, she would calm down after he will bring her to climax…

“Yes, go ahead, rape me, show me you are a true Lion, who gets what he wants regardless…”

He let her go, “I will not touch you again at all, if that’s what you want,” he snapped and left for his solar stung to the quick and feeling empty.

When he came back to bedroom Arya was rolled up into a ball where he left her, on the furs by the dying fire. She was holding a pillow she probably took from the bed, she still had her clothes and boots on.

He approached her, the pillow was wet, so she let herself cry, he suddenly regretted he did not come for her earlier

He bent down to collect her and to bring her to bed fearing she would wake up and start fighting him, but at the same time hoping she already lost her anger and would be his Arya again.

Her body did not react at all when he lifted her up; it was the same deep sleep of hers that had scared him several days ago, almost undetectable breathing and very low heartbeat.

He did not know much, medicine wise, but it did not seem normal. He was about to call the Harrenhal’s maester, but first he shook her a little trying to wake her.

Arya woke with a strange convulsion and her breathing had returned to normal the next second. “I had a strange dream, something about wolves, it’s all,” she had assured him.

Now the symptoms were the same. He took her boots off, undressed her leaving only her smallclothes. Arya’s body remained limp all that time.

He carefully placed her on their bed and tucked her under furs. He was so exhausted himself that he fell asleep a soon as his head reached the pillow. 

Arya remained in the same state in the morning as he readied himself for the court. If it wouldn’t be for last night’s argument, he would shake her from that dream, but decided against it.

The absurd idea suddenly came to his mind; if he would be successful it would make his girl happy as soon as she would open her eyes.

In the courtyard enclosure, Arya’s direwolf was observing life outside through an opening in the fence.

He made the guard unlock the door and carefully stepped inside. “Nymeria,” he called quietly.

The she wolf turned her head, then got up and slowly walked towards him, keeping her yellow eyes trained on him stopping a meter or so from him.

“You know me already, but don’t trust me yet, do you?” he said, maintaining eye contact with the beast.

“Just like your mistress, you are? Am I a bad lion for you too?”

It was a ridiculous notion to talk to the creature, but he felt a strange desire to talk his mind out to someone without any humiliating consequences, and Nymerya seemed like listening, she pricked up her ears and tilted her head to the side a little. 

A splendid direwolf specimen she was and unusually smart, calm and dignified for such a wild beast.

“Your mistress thinks me heartless and cruel, yes I do have a lot of blood on my hands, you have killed a lot also, Nymeria. You killed for food, for survival; I did it for survival and glory of my lion pride. You do love her and she loves you in spite of your nature and habits,” he noticed the direwolf’s yellow eyes were burning into his.

“I do love my Arya probably more that I do love my own children now, and I can’t do anything about it. Honestly I don’t want to do anything about it ever,” he suddenly confessed the truth he could never bring himself to say to his wife,

“If she only could get over all this Lannister thing one day,” he concluded bitterly. 

Nymeria gave out a little whine approached him and poked his hand with her wet nose.

She looked at him again and he could swear it was comprehension in the wolf’s eyes.

“So we are already friends, well,” he carefully touched Nymeria’s nape, “let’s go, I’ll take you to your mistress now.”

The wolf followed him inside the tower and up the stairs.

Inside the chamber she jumped on the bed and gave a howl examining Arya’s sleeping form.

Suddenly his wife’s body convulsed just like that previous time in Harrenhal, and Nymeria shook violently at the same exact moment. 

The direwolf was in obvious shock; she got off the bed, bolted around the room. It looked like she did not have any idea what she was doing here. After briefly exploring the place she jumped back on bed and lay beside Arya.

The realization slowly started to fill his mind. Too bad he had never really paid much attention to the old tales, even when he was still a child he did not believe such rubbish. 

Rubbish, not quiet so as he could see now, unfortunately he couldn’t piece together the scarce information, and no way he could ask around about it now…

He looked at Arya, her eyes were already open, “Nymeria,” she exclaimed happily and hugged the creature. 

“Tywin, thank you for bringing her here,” she gave him the warmest smile possible. “You are welcome,” he tried to return the smile, which was not easy as he was in a state of shock.

“Can we just forget our last unfortunate conversation? I did not mean my last words, you know, I can’t hate you, what I do feel towards you is quite opposite,” Arya sounded unusually shy. 

“And your touch is always welcomed,” she concluded almost flirtatiously after a little pause.


	11. Chapter 11

He was still in shock, couldn’t make himself talk back to Arya while she leapt off the bed, ran towards him, and jumped on him, encircling her arms around his neck.

Whatever different nature she was, it did not matter to him at the moment. She was his Arya again and he treasured it foremost; her sincere action raised him out of his stupor and he lifted her up to make it face to face for the kiss. Arya’s legs immediately went around him.

As his hands were holding Arya’s buttocks, he felt aroused right away, but that was not a priority at the moment, it was something more that simple desire in Arya’s eyes, he was overwhelmed with the realization. 

“She probably had heard my revelation,” he thought with a strange mixture of embarrassment and relief; “how much could she possibly remember afterwards?” 

She met his lips with unusual tenderness and he just deepened the kiss.

He did not want to frighten her with questions, he would be in an awkward position as well, plus the peace between the two of them and their interrelations were too fragile for such disclosures still.

He forgot about Nymeria for the moment, but luckily she did not move from her place, just kept her yellow eyes trained on them.

With all his will power he stopped the temptation to ask Arya to relocate her direwolf outside the room and continue with her for the next half hour.

Instead he set Arya back to bed reluctantly, dreading her reaction, “I should go and rule the kingdom, my love, unless you want to leave this privilege to her majesty,” 

“I understand, and I know, how busy you will be from now on. I promise, I will not attack you against your will,” she smiled.

“I promise, there will be some time for us tonight,” he gently cupped her cheek, “But before I go, just let me clear a couple of things for you,” he tried to sound less commanding as usual, probably an impossible attempt.

“You can skip the court today if you need more rest, we all do, but if you will make your appearance, you are more than welcome, and I’ll make sure you will be treated with respect.”

“All right, I’ll make the effort to look presentable, but half of the court ladies already had been briefly acquainted with me last night,” Arya smirked, 

Good, she was not shy or intimidated by their judgmental glances. He just could imagine their reaction at her boy’s outfit.

 

“I will even wear the “compromise” dress for you,” Arya winked to him.

“I am sure they will not recognize you then,” The deep crimson dress with silver embroidery and dark gray mirish lace made her look a couple years older and as regal as any queen.

“One more thing,” he continued, “convince lady Brienne to not leave the tower today. She is not a prisoner, but ser Loras is blaming her in killing Renly.

As Joffrey’s death is similarly mysterious I will right it off on Stannis’ witchcraft and Brienne will testify about what she had witnessed in Renly’s tent. But I am not sure I’ll have time to make this statement today, and I do have problems enough besides protecting your friend.”

Arya nodded to him. Her expression turned blank the same second he brought up the issue of Joffrey’s death.

“And don’t be hard on your sister, she has suffered a lot already,” he said before exiting the room. Arya would find out about Sansa’s abuse sooner or later, so if he could warn her first, she probably wouldn’t attack him with accusations afterwards.

 

Before leaving for the palace, he went to the tower’s big hall, where all the serving staff was waiting having been summoned by his earlier command.

He was brief about the matter, “If any harm will come to my lady wife or her direwolf, all your heads will be on spikes. 

If someone tries to bribe you to do some harm, or even just asks you to spy here, you will be rewarded greatly for such information. Whoever this person would be, I want to know it,” 

After registering their face expressions, he knew, Arya and her “companion” will be safe here. He was not Eddar Stark, he could protect, that which he holds dear.

Strangely he had already developed some liking of the direwolf, maybe because of her bond with Arya, and as she was not a threat to him, he couldn’t rob his wife of her happiness.

He was sure his daughter would try to kill Nymeria as soon as she would learn of her reappearance. “Lannister’s way’s definitely,” he though bitterly, remembering Arya’s words. He will make sure Arya would change her opinion about him soon.

He couldn’t change who he was, but for Arya he wanted to be a better man, he was open for some compromises to win her ultimate respect, it seemed that the biggest compromise he ever afforded himself in his life would be the peace offering to Robb Stark.

He had showed her Frey’s letter and instead of well-expected gratitude from her for his rejection of so tempting an offer she had looked at him; her huge gray eyes even wider, with disbelief. 

“What, if it wouldn’t be for me, you could possibly agree to reward them for committing such a dishonorable crime?” she had asked him.

She wouldn’t like his honest answer any way so he just had ignored her remark. This damned Stark honor was always sabotaging her acceptance of him. Probably his “conversation” with Nymerya would be helpful to some degree. 

 

On his way to the palace he was wondering who actually had killed Joffrey? Stannis’s Red witch was just the one of the suspects, although the most suitable for his purposes. 

He smirked to himself, although the escaped Stannis is done as a king, who would have ever supported a leader who used black magic, was a kinslayer, burned people, temples and godswoods?

He would think about sending out his own letter, all these revelations about Stannis would be more appalling than this flimsy filth written by Stannis.

When he went to see Cersey, she was already up and ready to be taken to her son’s body. 

Before leaving for the Sept, Cersey suddenly turned to him, “Father, as a Queen Regent I officially declare you the Savior of the City, it is the least I can do to thank you for your deed. We will be grateful if you will except the honor from our new king.”

So this was his daughter’s sweet way to show him who was actually in charge. He would see to a change soon enough.

“I will ride in as the old custom dictates,” he said dryly, swearing silently to himself that he wouldn’t get off the damned horse, as the old custom perfectly permitted so.

 

Removing Cersei from the position of the queen regent wouldn’t be an easy task; she was a lioness after all. To confront her with accusation of an incestuous relationship with Jaime would be useless, as they both knew he would never use it openly. But if he would have something more against her…Everything together would work.

The last night, drunk and devastated with grief, Cersei had been so angrily surprised Tyrion was still alive…So this morning he went to check on his son before the Small Council urgent meeting.

Tyrion was sill unconscious. His squire Podrick, who actually had saved his live, was sincerely concerned about him. He asked the shy lad to enlighten him about what had actually happened.

It was not easy to break the boy’s stubborn fear, but seven hells; the boy actually had his reasons to be afraid to speak…

So his royal daughter was using the White Cloak as a cat paw to eliminate her own brother while he was fighting for her. Although he did not love Tyrion, he was disgusted by such a ruthless attempt against her own blood.

He should watch out for Arya’s safety even more carefully now, there could be someone else beside ser Mandon ready to strike Cersei’s enemies for her. 

He left Podrick a big purse of gold promising to elevate him to the Knighthood as soon as he will reach the adequate age; the boy was faithful and not a coward after all. He took the lad’s word to not confess the unfortunate event to anyone else.

 

…………….

 

The last night when Arya threw her hateful words to him, she couldn’t even think Tywin would stop what he was doing…

As angry as she had been, she would fight him of course, but as she recently discovered to her own surprise her mind and her body could have totally opposite desires. 

“So my treacherous body wants to submit even in spite of my angry mind; and the inevitable climax that happens afterwards calms my mind down?” she could not resolve that puzzle, she just had learned now that crying alone would feel much worse. 

His words to Nymeria made her think differently about “Aggressive-possessive” Tywin’s, advances. Maybe he did it for love, not only for dominance? 

Sure, he was The Lion, and dominance was his nature, but who was perfect in this world after all? His words to Nymeria were obviously honest, and that mattered to her foremost.

“He does love me for real,” this realization made her heart skip a beat. “Am I a silly romantic like all girls are?” she did not want to be like that. 

Seven hells, the words “I love you, Tywin,” almost spilled from her when she was in his arms just minutes ago… 

But the life with Nymeria by her side again and that piece of shit Joffrey dead at last seemed too good and thus it was too soon to be upset with her own sentimental weakness.

“Who had killed Joffrey, Jaqen or Stannis’s witch?” her curiosity picked, but the voices and knocking the door interrupted her pondering.

“Come in,” Arya invited her maids in.

Arya chuckled at the sight of the faces of her two maids, when they saw her Nymeria. They were already in the middle of the room, and just froze on the spot probably trying with all their might to not drop the tray with food and the pitcher.

“She bites only by my command,” she reassured the girls, she sounded probably ominous again, or at least not so convincing, as they both remained petrified.

Definitely she will not be the servant’s favorite person here.

“Just put everything on the table. I need the hot bath and help to get dressed afterwards. And I’ll pay you extra for wolf troubles.”

“Thank you, Milady,” they said sheepishly.

“And bring some meat for my girl,” she commanded before they hurried away.

They will overcome the fear eventually, and if she would pay them good for the additional work, they probably wouldn’t mind Nymeria around.

She critically observed the dirt and some dark gray hair on the bed cover, she probably should brush her girl sometimes, Arya signed, what had been an almost impossible task even long months ago when Nymeria was still a pup…

After they both ate, Nymeria the lamb leg, and Arya some bread, eggs and bacon with milk, she put on her yesterday’s outfit and took Nymeria back to the enclosure to not intimidate her new handmaidens, she would need help with her dress and her hair afterwards.

When she was already all clean and done in her sumptuous dress and one of the girls,  
Sally, was still working on her hopeless hair; trying to pin the uneven strands down so they wouldn’t stick out; in order for her to cover her head with a dense net, she sent the other maid with one of the guards to fetch lady Sansa.

Sansa, her sister, she felt the butterflies in her belly again, and some anger too because of Cersei’s words, and concern recalling her husband’s last words, that probably implied the abuses Sansa had suffered here from Joffrey.

She would try her best to keep her temper in check… “And I do not look like a horse face any more, at least in this dress,” she told herself. Why lately has she started caring about appearance any way? 

Sansa entered the room and her maids discretely left. Arya got up and made several steps forwards. 

Sansa did change a lot, her form was more womanlike now, and her dress was obviously small for her. But what really struck her were Sansa’s eyes, they lost their sparking shine and her older sister did not regard her with her usual confident supremacy look that so irritated Arya in the past.

“Arya, sister, you are alive, thank the gods,” managed Sansa in small voice with relief and disbelief while moving slowly towards her. 

“Sansa,” Arya exclaimed and ran towards her first, forgetting all negative feelings in that moment.

“Are you well, Arya?” was Sansa’s first question after they separated from embrace and sat down on a divan.

“More than I have ever been, seriously, Sansa,” she smiled while her sister examined her with disbelief.

“You do look older, but still a child, I can’t believe it, did he wed you for…real?” 

Her sister still couldn’t express herself frankly, which was not a surprise.

“If you are asking about sex, this is the best part of the married life,” Arya smirked, observing how uncomfortable Sansa became with her choice of words.

“Arya, you are a real lady now, but just the same…improper…”

Arya laughed out loud now, “I am and I always will be.”

“How do you get along with him? He is so old, and so reserved…people say he never smiles. It seems everyone are so afraid of lord Tywin, even the queen is probably intimidated by her father.”

“Unfortunately not too much when she is drunk like a skunk,” she chuckled.

“What, did you meet her last night?” Sansa’s voice trembled a little.

“Unfortunately yes, sister, I had quite the welcome by her already. She doesn’t know about Nymeria being with me yet,” Arya gave away the triumphant smile.

“What, do you have Nymeria back? And your lord husband did not harm her?”

“Tywin is very protective towards me and towards what I do hold dear, this is the good side of the lions, I guess.” 

“Unfortunately not all lions are like him,” said Sansa gingerly, the sadness in her eyes.

“And I am so sorry about everything,” she managed, but kept the silence for a while after saying it, “if I would tell the truth, my Lady and this butcher boy would be still alive, Robert would not have listened to Censei and would not have done this injustice. 

“What else are you sorry for, sister,” Arya couldn’t help it any more, it would be better for both of them to get to the bottom of the things as soon as possible.

“So you already know…Cersey was bragging about it, was she not?” Sansa looked down under her inquiring look.

“I was on the way to you room, but I couldn’t make it in afterwards,” Arya lowed her gaze as well…

“I was so stupid, I thought I was in love with Joffrey and did believe he loved me too, and I had wanted to become his queen, like in the perfect fairy tales,” Sansa was sobbing now, “but there are only monsters in this real life,” she started crying now.

“ I had regretted my stupidity every single day here, and I dreaded the day I would become his wife…”

“What had this little prick done to you, calm down, Sansa, he is dead for good now. Calm down and tell me everything,” Arya asked as she placed her hands on Sansa’s shoulders.

“I’ll make sure everyone who ever laid a hand on you will be punished,” the truth was more devastating that she had expected, she knew Tywin wouldn’t let her kill the White Cloaks, but at least they wouldn’t be the White Cloaks any longer…

 

Sansa did not surprise Arya with her restrained astonishment when Brienne walked in wearing britches and tunic, without her armor, but with her sword belt on along with a sword of course. 

“Our mother’s sworn shield is more true and noble that any knights of your silly songs, sister,” she said after introductions were made.

Brienne blushed, “Arya, stop it, why are you teasing me?” 

“I don’t believe in the songs any more,” Sansa uttered in low voice.

Brienne agreed reluctantly to Tywin’s request to stay in the tower until being summoned, “It would be a big relief for me if my innocence would be officially proclaimed, and I truly appreciate lord Tywin has concerns about it.”

“Concerns,” Arya suppressed the smirk, her lord husband is a cunning politician. Could Brienne be so hopelessly naïve? 

Before heading for the court, Sansa turned to her favorite matter at last, the appearance. She complemented her dress, adjusted Arya’s net with her deft fingers, 

“Your hair will grow, Arya, but it probably will take couple of years or so. You need a wig. Some poor woman will be happy with couple of gold coins I guess…”

“I would rather not wear someone’s hair on my own head, sister. Plus half of the ladies already saw my haircut, so they just would laugh harder on the wig,” she firmly rejected the idea.

“Nobody would dear to laugh at you now, but you are right, most ladies here are shallow mean creatures,” Sansa did not press the subject any more.

In the throne room Arya decided to watch from the gallery first, instead of playing her rightful role: Lady of the Hand. What exactly her new status would require from her she did not know and she was not in a hurry to find out, that she was sure off.

They reached the front of the gallery with help of Arya’s two guards who cleared the pass for them through the thick crowd.

Noble lords and ladies were gathering close to the throne, she could see a couple of White Cloaks behind the Iron Throne, and the little form of Tommen carefully seating on it, he looked around perplexed and scared. The golden crown on his head gave him obvious discomfort as well.

He did look like one of his little kittens in the ominous monstrous trap; the spiky chair actually looked such. She did not see Cersei by him. Tywin was nowhere around too. She recognized Littlefinger and Varys at the council table among several more lords she did not have any idea about.

“Enlighten me who is who, the names, the houses, the titles, you know, I had never paid attention to such boredom before,” she asked Sansa who nodded back to her and started whispering vigorously while pointing from one lord or lady to another. 

After fifteen minutes or so Arya felt her head would blow. Sure she should better learn all this soon or later, Tywin wouldn’t tolerate any incompetence from her.

Suddenly the blast of trumpets announced the entry of lord Tywin Lannister. The silence befallen when with a start there were sounds of the clatter of the horse hooves.

Her lord husband in his full golden armor and enormous cloth-of-gold cloak was approaching from the entrance on Thundercloud’s back. 

She had noticed earlier this morning he had been still tired, but his seat on the horse did not give it away, it was impeccable straight and so masculine graceful, while he was riding slowly towards the throne.

“He does look like a king, and he is so handsome in spite of his age, I do understand you now,” whispered Sansa with awe.

He sister was right, Tywin was her Lion, whatever ruthless beast he was; despite his growls at her sometimes, he was her love and she was proud to be his wife. 

They were almost by the throne as Thundercloud relived himself with his usual enormous dung. “That’s my favorite horsy,” smirked Arya.

Tywin stopped by the throne but did not dismount to her surprise. Lord Belish approached and said something to Tommen.

The little boy tried to do his best to speak as loud and as distinct as he could, when he proclaimed The Lord of Casterly Rock, “Savior of the City” and asked him to assume his position of The Hand.

Lord Tywin solemnly agreed and rode away. Arya could swear he glimpsed her while passing by. So she expected he would send for her soon.

She did not expect when about twenty minutes later her lord husband walked towards her by himself. His guards were cleaning the passage for him through the crowd. The people bowed low as he passed. He took off his armor and already wore the black doublet with the Hand’s chain. 

“My lady wife, would you care joining me,” it sounded like a command of course, as most of Tywin’s words sounded any way.

But the fact that he came to her by himself, did not just send the squire or a guard instead, made her just simply take his extended hand with a little smile, “Gladly, my lord husband.” 

So she had mastered some manners already, Sansa should be proud of her now.

“Lady Sansa, I assume,” Tywin slightly nodded to her sister.

“Lord Tywin,” Sansa curtsied deeply of course, “Your bravery saved us all!”

“Just did what should be done,” said Tywin dismissively and proceeded with Arya towards the Throne Room.

Her husband was not into returning courtesies and compliments; Sansa should get the idea soon enough. 

When they reached the throne, Arya knew all eyes were on her now. She could see the state of shock on the faces when Tywin introduced her as his lady wife. 

The noble ladies did not dear to whisper with each other, and she got only smiles and curtsies, but she already hated the attention and obviously oncoming gossips. 

Good for her, the ceremony of greeting heroes of the battle continued as soon as lord Tywin took his seat at the council table. 

Titles and lands were handed out as a reward; three hundred new knights were made. Arya did her best to pay attention. The little king got obviously tired and did not seem to enjoy all this kneeling and bowings made to him.

Cersei never showed up, apparently was pretty emotionally distraught over her monstrous prick’s death, without Cersei and Joffrey, to attend the court was almost bearable. 

After three something hours Tywin eventually replaced his grandson on the Iron Throne.  
They did not contradict each other; her lord husband sat on the spiky chair with ease, as ominous looking as the throne itself.

Her Lion, her lord husband, her man, her mate, The King all but name… She felt tingle and warming in her abdomen.

They were dealing with the prisoners now, she was glad they took Tommen away, as the procedure was not for a gentle boy like him.

Those who asked pardon or swore fealty were forgiven and restored to all their rights. But there were several defiant ones, who even shouted insults. 

Lord Tywin gave the command to take their heads off with a flat, but strong voice, and the men were taken out immediately with Ilyn Payne to accompany them.

Arya desperately wanted see ser Ilyn’s head removed from his shoulders, but she did not have any idea how it could be possibly done. So she should sacrifice her vengeance list for now at least.

………..

 

They ate later dinner in his solar in the Tower. Arya’s wolf was by her feet under the table. He did not mind her presence, as Nymeria did not move and did not make a sound.

“Tomorrow I’ll write parchment to your brother, you can write your own letter to him as well, think about the most convincing reasons you could point out to him,” he asked Arya.

“Well, as Joffrey who had ordered father’s execution is dead now, Robb shouldn’t have the same resentment as before, his desire for revenge should be satisfied, at least partially.

He is the last and only Stark to continue the line, so he should be responsible about his life. And his position is not as strong as before, he should be realistic about it.

And you are his good brother now, would he like it or not, he should be concerned about my well being, and I would feel miserable if the war between you two will continue.”

“My smart girl,” he couldn’t help but been impressed.  
“So your desire for revenge was not completely satisfied with Joffrey’s death?”

Arya looked him straight into his eyes, but without her usual defiance, “Not of course, but I gave you my word already, I wouldn’t try anything towards Cersey. But understand, what I feel as I see Ilyn Payne around.”

Tywin thought for a moment, “Arya, I can’t punish him for obeying the king, but as the peace with your brother will be made I will send Ilyn Payne away, I promise.”

“Better that nothing,” Arya bit her lip.

“I could do some justice for your sister though. As ser Meryn was the most ardent one in beating your sister, I am striping him from The White Cloak.” 

This was an easy decision to make, not a compromise at all, as he disliked the coward right away, the man had showed his true nature under questioning. 

Arya’s face brightened, “I was about to ask you to do so, thank you, Tywin.”

“How is your son recovering?” Arya asked him after a little pause.

“Still unconscious,” he replied shortly. Although he never cared about Tyrion before, he strongly wished him to get well. Firstly, he did a right thing this time, had showed his ability and bravery. 

And foremost, what bothered Tywin, if Tyrion would die now it would be on Cersei’s hands, that would make his daughter a kinslayer, he wouldn’t want it for her and for himself, even if nobody else would learn about it.

“Ii is very sad, Tyrion was the only one here who did protect my sister and had stopped her abuse,” Arya explained her concern.

After dinner he sat to his desk. It was already full of parchments that needed his replies.

“So you will be busy now,” Arya signed and turned towards the bookshelf to search for something to read.

“I am just sorting them for tomorrow morning, go take Nymeria outside,” he could see how Arya’s eyes sparkled at his words.

 

Arya was different than before when they made love, did not rush the pace, followed his lead, that helped him to hold longer. He loved it the most, slowly pulling in and out, enjoying her tightness, caressing her body, changing the positions. 

He made her climax two times already, and still could hold back his release, so Arya should learn the benefits of trusting him. 

At the end he was on his back placing Arya on the top, but controlling her hips with his hands. For that position his girl had tried to fight with him before and he had not gave up easily just in spite. 

As Tywin increased the speed Arya got wild of course, she was his wolf girl after all. They finished simultaneously the third time, and both went limb, spent but completely satisfied.

“It was wonderful, Tywin, my love,” Arya murmured, cuddling to him afterwards and soon was fast asleep in his arms.

 

..............

 

Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, and leaving kudos:)))

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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	12. Chapter 12

I am so sorry I did not update for so long....

 

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Arya was three and ten today, but she knew if it were not for her marriage she wouldn’t be considered a woman grown, obviously as compared to Sansa. 

Howether it did not bother her much any more, as between the two of them Arya felt she was the older one, and not only because of her married status and Tywin’s age.

They both had learned a lot and although they did not give up on most of their old antics, they had grown to be more tolerant of each other. Sansa did not criticize Arya’s daily practices with Brienne, and Arya did not make fun of her all to proper sister. 

If someone would suggest such could happen several months ago, Arya would call him a bloody liar. But here they were now, the two sisters, not exactly the closest of friends, but not a single fight since they had been reunited.

But what exactly Sansa was thinking and feeling was not completely clear to her. Arya was careful with her sister as well, remembering the very disturbing remark Tywin had made their very first day in Red Keep,

“I hope you are smart enough to not tell your sister things that you aren’t even revealing to your loving husband,” he had said offhandedly.

Was he bluffing or suspecting something about her warging, it was not clear; and as Tywin did not press the issue, Arya had ignored the alarming hinting on.

If Tywin would suspect something serious, like her interaction with Jaqen, he wouldn’t be so indifferent to the matter, so she decided she did not have reason to panic. 

But of course she was trying to refrain from warging from now on, plus it was not fun to be a wolf without a forest.

And about not trusting Sansa, she wouldn’t tell her much any way. She did forgive her sister again but trust couldn’t be earned so easily, so she was just observing her sister now.

And Sansa had alarmed her already by telling her about her meetings in the God’s Woods with the drunken fool Dontos. 

As desperate as Sansa was she should know better that such a character, even if his motives were sincere, couldn’t possibly be relied on as a protector-companion. And Sansa was incapable to survive on her own even if she would flee King’s Landing.

Good gods, her sister at least had had enough common sense to not run away with the Hound, who was capable to protect her on the road, but sure enough would fuck her or use her for a ransom. 

Arya had expressed her opinion to Sansa as mildly as possible, although several months ago she would call her sister outright stupid. 

She had asked Sansa firmly to stop any interactions with the drunken fool. It was so awkward to command her older perfect sister, Arya did not enjoy her obvious power, but it was a necessity to exercise it for Sansa’s own safety.

Her older sister had complied; as Joffrey was dead she could wait for Robb’s response and the outcome of the treaties. But since, she had been avoiding self-disclosures and pitiful revelations after this conversation.

Sansa had cried in front of her one more time, when she first saw Nymeria, “Lady could be like her now, not as big probably,” she had whimpered while first patting and then carefully hugging Nymeria.

They both had being surprised when Nymeria had wined back and had licked Sansa’s tears away.

After this Sansa was composed and reserved again only slightly annoying with her usual but now careful and polite recommendations regarding Arya’s manners, but of course Sansa never belittled her like she had used to do before.

“You are so brave, you aren’t afraid of him at all,” was the only one praise she had received from Sansa, which she had uttered with a sort of admiration in her voice.

It was probably how her sister could explain to herself the only sound reason why lord Tywin could possibly marry such an unladylike and not beauty of a girl in such haste. 

Thanks to her position as the lady of the Hand, people were careful to not displease or offend her, but their glances behind fake smiles spoke volumes about their real attitude nevertheless. 

After pompous Joffrey’s funeral, which Arya couldn’t avoid attending, although she had tried hard to not go; Cersei was seen around again, she was no longer politically active though.

Tywin never told Arya any details, but she could see the relationship between him and his daughter was strained at the very least. 

Cersei did not try to attack her openly any more, just treated her with haughty coldness, not concealing her supremacy attitude. 

Arya kept her composure as well as she could, although the image of the dagger going through the queen’s throat was always present when the queen was in the proximity. 

Good for Arya, she did not spend much time in the court, but Tywin insisted she should make her appearance there almost every day for one-two hours or so. 

All these compromises irritated her but her older sister directed her in the proper way every time she was about to rebel.

“ He doesn’t require much from you at all, all right, so don’t exaggerate the issue, just go there and be pleasant to everyone,” it was easy for Sansa to say, she was so natural in her courtesies, but of course she couldn’t disagree as her older sister made a fair point.

To be pleasant would be too much of a show to put on for these court fools, and her lord husband actually was satisfied with her cold politeness, “You don’t need to do more for them,” reassured her lion.

But Sansa was convinced in the necessity of some stupid warm smiles, “You know as people are fearful of lord Tywin, you should be more likeable, to smooth it, allay their fear, it’s your duty to make a good impression,” she had said to her.

“I already overheard the saying that you are copying your lord husband’s manners,” Sansa had warned her once. The idea of her as a copycat was humiliating, but if she would try courtesies, it would be like copying her sister and the majority of the highborn ladies….

What Sansa was perfect with was a sense of style. So Arya had involved her in supervising the making of new outfits for both of them, the offer her sister was reluctant to accept first.

“I do need you help, you know I don’t have any idea about all these stupid fashions, and Tywin expects me to look nice, but don’t feel obligated at all,” Arya had reassured her.

Sansa embraced the affair with sincere passion, marveling at the rich fabrics and laces, suggesting the styles and dealing with the seamstresses. 

Sure such activity was good therapy for her after all her suffering and one less stupid activity for Arya. If her sister could just give up on trying to change her attitude, it would be even better for both of them.

Arya did act girly once with Tywin, just to see, what would happen, and the result was unexpectedly overwhelming. Tywin was with her and for her today, no Court, no Small Counsel, and it took just a soft murmur to his ear about her birthday wish…

It was just so perfect; to start the day with long lovemaking. It was a real treat because on a daily basis Tywin was usually gone to court or was already working by his desk when she was just getting up.

Well, they had sex twice in the morning, when she had happened to be up at the dawn and Tywin was at the blink of waking up. Of course she couldn’t pass the opportunity by and had got the aroused member of her half sleeping lion in her possession.

The first time she had got his cock in her mouth, naively thinking that it would be just a beginning. 

“Arya, my girl,” had murmured her lion, shortly before releasing. Of course he gave her embrace and kiss afterwards, and an apologetic promise to make it up to her the following night.

The second time it had been just a quick fuck; she had enjoyed the intensity and had managed to reach her peak, but had become frustrated to be left alone so soon afterwards nevertheless. 

So she did not volunteer morning sex afterwards. She would not deny Tywin of course if he would start it, but he never tried to wake her up for his needs.

This morning, it was just magical, as her lion could take his time with her, claiming every part of her body with caresses and kisses, just like he used to do it back in Harenhal, when they couldn’t have a real intercourse.

He was so unusually placid during their long breakfast, so she got the understanding; her lion just gets so relaxed after prolonged lovemaking that he wouldn’t consider it as a wise thing to start his busy day.

 

During the breakfast Tywin showed her Robb’s response, which they had been waiting so eagerly. It was very short and official, but her brother was ready to meet and to discuss.

Arya knew Sansa had got a letter from lady Catelyn several days ago. Arya had received none, but she did not send a raven to her mother, she did try, but the right words did not come easily, and she couldn’t be sarcastic, as she wanted to, 

“Whether you approve of my lord husband or not, you should be satisfied, mother, as I spend some part of my day as a real lady. But you’ll be disappointed as well, because lord Tywin lets me practice sword and archery and ride in the man’s manner, and I am happy to mention, he doesn’t require me doing embroidery.”

She almost wrote it, but became ashamed of such an immature spiteful outburst and did not correspond to her mother at all. 

Arya had sent only two parchments, to Robb, and to Jon at the Wall.

To Robb it was just her try to persuade him to value the reasons and consider the reality more than his pride and desire for revenge. Most of this she had endured by reasoning with herself as well. 

So the positive reply of the King of the North to the lord Hand was satisfactory enough for her, she had never been close to her mother or to Robb.

The letter to Jon was more personal; she could imagine what Jon, protective as he was, could think about her wedding to such an old man and a bloody Lannister as well. 

She had tried her best to reassure her favorite brother about her happiness, “You know, lord Tywin doesn’t oppress me at all, I still have your Niddle and do my favorite activities for a couple hours per day.

He lets me keep Nymeria by my side; we had found her on our way to the King’s landing. She is usually under the table when we dine together,” she had written this, with the hope that such simple reasoning would be best. 

She was waiting eagerly for Jon’s reply, but the Wall was probably too far to get the raven back so soon.

 

Sure Tywin couldn’t stay completely away from his desk, but it was understandable. Her excitement started fading as she was left alone.

The memories of her later name day in Winterfell, with all her family by her side took over her.

“You are growing fast, not a little girl any more,” her father had said and looked at her proudly. He had given her a new riding saddle, and had received a disapproving look from lady Catelyn, as the saddle was not a woman’s one.

She remembered mother had made her look neat, giving her the new blue dress and had helped her in it, “Don’t ruin it before dinner, or I’ll be very cross with you,” her mother couldn’t be easy on her even on her name day.

She had brushed and had adjusted her hair as well, “Don’t run around, keep it nice, put some effort to be a real lady today,” had been her second nagging.

She remembered Bran had been late for diner, probably was climbing, and had been reproached by mother. Little Rickon was actually the one who almost ruined her dress, if she had not ducked quickly from a flying piece of food.

She would never see her father and her little brothers in this life. If Jaqen was the one who had killed Joffrey, she had her revenge for her father, although it did not relieve her pain.

One unfulfilled matter did bother her, damned Theon was nowhere to be found, she was sure Tywin did not have any reason to deceive her about it.

Beside grief and frustration, the sudden realization hit; she had grown up, at least to the point of not having any desire to ruin her dress by running to stables or playing with Nymeria.

When the time came close to the dinner, she was clad in a dark gray dress with white mirish lace; her name day, her Stark colors, she decided straightforwardly.

Tywin couldn’t let her have such a victory of course, he approached her the same moment she was wandering what jewelry to add or skip. 

Her Lion fastened the gold-ruby necklace while planting light kisses down her neckline right after it. She gave away an involuntary murmur; no, she shouldn’t let herself get upset with Tywin because of some jewels.

She was so right as the next gift he presented made her even feel a little guilty for her suppressed grudge about the necklace.

And she was grateful Tywin did not insist on a big celebration, so she had invited only her favorite people. 

His majesty Tommen showed up first curious about Nymeria.

 

“Arya, please, I really want to see your wolf,” Tommen had kept badgering her during the past two weeks. She would gladly invite him to the Tower as Nymerya wouldn’t hurt him for sure without his kittens of course.

But he was a king now, and Cersei had already expressed her displeasure of Arya spending time with Tommen, although it was only in the training yard and in the gardens.

 

The little king was immediately taken to her, and while Cersei was mourning her older monster, Arya had free hands to establish friendship with Tommen.

She did it not only because of Tywin’s request, but because she liked the boy as well. To play with him and his kittens was like she had played with her younger brothers a life ago.

This thought was heartbreaking, but forgetting for a moment her status was so refreshing. 

At first Tommen had expressed his shock accordingly about her marriage to his grandfather, “Are you my grandmother now? You do not look like one,” he had stated with such naïve expression disarming Arya from taking offense.

“Yes, I am, but you better do not call me such,” she had warned him with laughter. 

Tommen was a sweet good-hearted boy; he had confided to her how guilty he was feeling for not grieving for Joffrey who had just recently shot one of the kittens with an arrow yet the boy was trying to overcome his grudges with all his might.

“He was my brother, and although I hated him for what he had done to me so many times, I never wished him dead. I should mourn him now like my mother does, shouldn’t I?”

“Calm down, you shouldn’t make yourself do it against your heart, it was Joffrey’s fault, that you do not mourn,” Arya had reassured him.

“Just never be like him, Tommen, and you will become a good king.”

“I don’t really want to be a king, can my grandfather become a king instead of me?” the boy had surprised her with such remark.

“You will have many years ahead of you to decide whether you want it or not, better do not talk about in now,” she had suggested to him, but not dismissing entirely his idea.

 

“ She is so huge,” Tommen was wary of the direwolf but did not flinch when Nymeria sniffed him, her muzzle on his shoulder.

 

…………………..

 

Tywin did not mind Arya’s way of just a little private celebration, seven hells he couldn’t stand most of these court idiots as well.

It was Arya’s choice of guests of course, he could give her that, obviously expecting Sansa and Brienne, the two his wife was spending most of her time during the day.

Sure Arya couldn’t overlook Kevan, she respected him, and they get along pretty good.

To invite little Tommen was an expected gesture too, the fact that Arya actually was listening to him was great relief, as her friendship with Tommen could be useful in the future as a counterbalance to Margaery’s influence.

He wouldn’t mind Arya had skipped Cersei; it would be hypocrisy to make these two socialize on the pretense to be one family now.

Arya did invite Tyrion thus. She befriended his least favorite son partially out of appreciation for his protection of Sansa from Joffrey’s abuse, but partially because she liked his insolent wits.

“Tyrion is much more worthy than your twins, much smarter and never hurt my family,” Arya had explained to him her attitude. 

As the reason of his resentment against Tyrion was not a secret to her, Arya had asked him with her quiet voice, “What, if in the future I will not survive child birth, would you hate our child the same?” 

He had been struck hard with the truth of the accusation, but had not been able to produce a response to himself or to Arya. 

He did not know what to think or feel towards Tyrion anymore, after his favorite twins had failed him…He still did not give up on Jaime however. 

His older son was returning to King’s Landing in a week and it would be a hard conversation between him and his children with dangerous revelations that obviously would result in Jaime estranged from his sister forever…

He shook all these unpleasant thoughts away, not today, when Arya was so lovely. He was grateful to her for her birthday wish, seven hells, he needed a distraction from his working routine.

He uncharacteristically observed the guests; all were actually the family except lady Brienne. If you only could call her such as even for her friend’s name day she did not consider changing into a woman’s gown. 

He caught the quick envious glance Arya gave to her britches and tunic, probably feeling uncomfortable in her splendid gown, but in a second Arya was smiling again.

He watched with amusement Tommen’s interaction with Nymeria. After she had sniffed him and slightly bumped her head to the boy’s chest, Tommen was not afraid of the direwolf any longer and petted her thick fur with delight. 

Nymeria was never so easy with strange adults; she accepted him as her mistress’s “mate” of course, she even let him bring her back to their chambers in the morning, although only Arya herself could lead her wolf out of the room.

Nymeria growled at Tyrion first, but after sniffing him let him be, she found a spot by the wall to lie down and lost interest, she knew everyone else here.

He watched with satisfaction Arya’s relaxed and kind interaction with her guests, nothing like her cold facade for the court.

She genuinely liked the book of Northern legends Kevan presented her. It was his call to ask his brother to find such a book for Arya, “It will remind Arya of her childhood.” 

The real reason behind it was to read it along with his wolf girl to find out about her secret nature, if that legend would be in the book of course.

The syvasse set from Tyrion was received with a great enthusiasm as well, to Tywin’s disappointment. From now on Tyrion would be a frequent guest to teach Arya the game.

 

Tywin himself had presented his gifts before everyone arrived, to enjoy Arya’s genuine reaction in its fullness. 

Beside the necklace that Arya just politely tolerated of course, he had produced the fine archery set. The light bow was made out of birch wood and snakeskin, the arrows were trimmed with dark gray feathers, and the black leather quiver had the silver direwolf head with yellow diamonds for the eyes.

She clearly did not expect it from him, so the Lannister necklace was forgotten and his girl had jumped on him without worrying to wrinkle her dress.

He had lifted her up carefully, “Like it, don’t you? It is a perfect size for shooting from horse back.”

“I just love it,” she had showered him with kisses, her hands gripping his neck.

“One more thing, not exactly a gift, just passing it on to you, Thundercloud is yours, if you would be comfortable to ride such a giant of course.”

“O, Tywin,” his girl was out of words and had snuggled up to him tightly.

Arya hugged Sansa thanking her for the gift that looked like some embroidered belt. Both girls smiled happily to each other and soon were involved in conversation with Kevan and Tyrion.

He observed with satisfaction his wife was no longer intimidated by Sansa, now confident with herself. It had hurt him to see such an attitude in Arya during their first days in the Red Keep. 

It was not obvious but he could detect it by sudden shyness that overtook his usually self-assured girl in the presence of her taller and more developed sister.

He had made himself do something so unlike him when he approached the small gathering in the court kissing Arya’s hand and complimenting her appearance right in front of people. 

He did not like the publicity of his display, but he did mean every word, he actually did mean more than he could voice. For him his she wolf was more than just a girl with a pretty face, she was his Arya, his love.

Arya will be strikingly beautiful in a year or two, he was sure about it. She will not have her sister’s refine type of beauty, but the untamed and the wild one, although the most magnetic and dangerous.


	13. Chapter 13

His children were waiting for him in his solar. He wanted Kevan to be present at first also, but decided to spare Cersei from additional humiliation so dismissed the idea.

He felt like it was sacrificing his golden daughter, even if she was guiltier that Jaime; he couldn’t deny that the drinking and whoring Robert had contributed heavily to the downfall of her morals.

He couldn’t blame Cersei for deceiving Robert; but making a puppet of Jaime, denying him his own life, was selfish and unfair of her, despite whatever these two felt towards each other.

Feelings and desires, he did not keep them in consideration for two decades, but thanks to Arya, he could acknowledge them as a reality now.

Not that it would change anything; he wouldn’t be any softer on Cersey for the sake of Jaime, and for her own sake… 

His daughter regarded him with the cold stare and fake half smile, “If you think I would resign from being Queen Regent as easily as Jaime did from the Kingsguards, I wouldn’t be your true daughter then.”

“You would do as I command, be grateful I am giving you the choice of a husband, of course such would be just between two or three suitors that could benefit the Lannister name.”

“After what you have done father by marring that wild child! Yes, she is high born, but other than that, she doesn’t have any quality befitted to the lady wife of such a great man you are, father,” unfortunately his daughter just couldn’t let him and Arya be in peace.

“Did she even once embarrass me in public? I am not blind; I see how you do it, Cersei. But my so-called wild wife is capable of resisting your provocations.”

Jaime and Tyrion nodded agreeing and Cersei gave Jaime a murderous look right away. 

“What, Cersei, Jaime is your twin, but he has a right to have his unbiased opinion,” he gave his daughter a long inquiring stare. 

“Arya seemed much more reserved that you, sweet sister,” Tyrion did not want to keep his mouth shut of course.

Any sniggering from Tyrion would irritate him any other time, but now it might help to start unpleasant disclosures.

 

Cersei’s face became visibly strained; Tyron’s intervening would make her lose her calm facade soon.

 

“As this conversation is about guiding Jaime and me towards certain direction, I don’t understand what he is doing here,” Cersei gave Tyrion a contemptuous hateful look.

“You all are my children, you all are Lannisters, and now is almost past the time to reestablish that priority in spite of the destructive passion or hatred you harbor so thoughtlessly.” 

“You should say it to Tyrion, he is the one here who is whoring, shaming our name, and hating our family,” Cersei almost snapped.

Was his daughter considering him a naïve fool or the proud hypocrite who was incapable of accepting the shameful reality? 

“I am not approving of Tyrion’s behavior, but his debauchery doesn’t cause the war against us,” he made the point.

“So it is just your responsibility to clean up the stupid mess you two have created so carelessly,” he continued calmly.

He half expected that one of his twins would voice the pathetic fact about Targaryens wedding brothers and sisters, but no, they apparently did not have the guts for such insolence.

“If you mean to separate us to stop the rumors, wouldn’t it be enough to send Jaime to Casterly Rock? Tommen is still too young, who could guide and console him better that his own mother?” Cersei’s voice was weaker now.

“You did guide and console Joffrey enough already. Plus the consequences of your uncontrollable hatred and lust towards your own family don’t look appealing to me,” he fixed his eyes on hers.

“Father, I don’t understand, if Jaime will not be here…and if Tyrion would mind his own business…” she did not know that to say.

“I am not speaking about Jaime,” he was sharp.

“Cersei, what is our father talking about,” Jaime sounded bewildered.

“Jaime, ask Tyrion how he almost got killed by a kings guard and ask uncle Kevan what his son had been talking about in his delirium.”

“Nonsense, I am not responsible for my little cousin’s sick imagination and Tyrion was probably hallucinating, especially after being unconscious for days,” Cersei was trying to sound contemptuous, but he could sense fear was rising in her.

“Don’t lie, Cersey. I do have a witness, who actually killed ser Mandon and saved Tyrion’s life. It was very low of you, especially when your brother was fighting against our common enemy.”

“He is a vile evil creature, he had sent Myrcella to Dorn, he had been spying on me, he was threatening my children, he is the enemy amongst his own blood, I can’t believe you are on his side now, father,” Cersei’s composure started to fail her.

“I am on the side of common sense and dignity demanding a strong family that stays together against its enemies. You went too far to be trusted any longer.”

“Cersei, how could you, Tyrion is our little brother, you know how dear he is to me,” Jaime gave her a look of misbelief.

“And what about Lancer?” Jaime couldn’t compose a specific question; his voice was strained.

“Sorry brother, but our father is right about it. Lancer had confessed to me himself. I had threatened him of course, vile monster I am, and he was spying for me on our sweet sister since then, for the benefits of realm and the great Lannister name.”

“You little vile prick, I will kill you with my own hands,” Cersei rushed towards the smirking Tyrion.

“Come to your senses,” Tywin sized his daughter’s hand, “For what you have done you could loose your own head, or be forced to become a Silent Sister.

I just require you to resign from the Queen Regent position and wed again. If you do have the desire for men, you would be satiated by a husband not by breaking the laws.”

He let Cersei go and she headed to the door.

“Trying to be merciful, father? You better learn to be so. Your little wolf bitch will grow and may have the need to break certain laws also,” she gave away an unnatural laughter and left the room.

He suppressed whatever her spiteful words trigged in him, dismissed Tyrion and calmly spoke to Jaime, whose blank expression and darkened eyes made him worry about his son’s well being,

“I am sorry son, but it is better for you to know the truth. Be strong, you are the lion, you will get over her, will go on with your own life,” it was a trite reassuring, but he couldn’t find a better words.

“And I had never even laid eye on the other woman, let alone being with someone’s else…” Jaime uttered a matter of fact remark. 

“I will do that you require, father. I wish to leave Red Keep as soon as possible,” he stated after a long silence. 

“I am still asking you to consider Sansa as a future wife, if you court her properly she would willingly agree and you wouldn’t feel bad about that stupid oath her mother had forced from you.

The girl is a real pleaser in conversation, would never contradict you, she has refined manners and beauty. And Starks do have honor and morals. Could you wish for more?”

“I don’t search for fake approval of someone who just doesn’t dare to do otherwise, and the woman’s beauty is not the priority that could influence my choice. But I will tell you about my choice soon, father.”

 

Jaime left him bewildered about the matter, but he put aside the troubled thoughts; if Jaime’s choice of wife would be unacceptable, he would interfere then.

He couldn’t put Cersei’s remark aside as easily though. He would be seven and fifty soon; will Arya desire him in three, five, ten, twenty years from now? 

While he will become older, she will become the beauty that men would turn their heads towards. Would she be tempted to try a young lover? Would she resist such temptation?

He would kill any man who would even try to tempt her, but could he possibly punish her for betrayal? 

The reality was, that his Arya, his wolf girl, was the first among the few people in this world he could not hurt.

He was grateful Arya kept to her word and did not act out on Cersei. He saw Arya’s deadly looks towards his daughter; they both do wish each other dead. 

If he would be forced to choose between them, it would be the hardest almost impossible choice. It would be safer for everyone if they would be far apart from each other.

No, his Arya values honor foremost. She wouldn’t try any revenge towards his family, although she had given her word quiet reluctantly, she would stick to it.

Damn Cersei with her venomous assumption, the stupid assumption really, Arya would never dishonor her vows. And it is up to him, that she would never feel tempted to do so.

He calmed down gradually; Arya should be back from her archery lessons any time soon. She did really enjoy the new bow, his gift. The instructor he hired for Arya was praising her fast progress and persistence.

He was not surprised that Arya mastered riding his giant stallion, with a smaller saddle especially made for her.

He had observed Arya the first time she had galloped away on Thundercloud’s back, she had been swollen with pride, a childish pride obviously, which made him smile.

He let her ride to the city, with an escort of his best guards, and with the strict request do not dismount. Little lady Lannister, the people were calling her, puzzled by her boyish outfit, but grateful for the coins she distributed.

Such charity, which Arya was so eager to carry on, would alleviate the negative attitude towards his house, and the hatred to which Joffrey had contributed by his acts of stupid cruelty.

It was getting late, probably two hours since he have been left alone. Arya’s lesson should be over a long time ago.

He went to the training yard on the possibility Arya would be just caring away with her practice or observing some swordfights.

He was right, his girl was still in the training yard, but far away from the action, absorbed in some hearty conversation with Brienne.

He approached carefully with his curiosity piqued by the redness of the Maiden of Tarth’s face and her unusually emotional gestures.

“Don’t be an idiot, Brienne, he doesn’t have any reason to play some sort of nasty game with you or make fun of you, it is not a funny business at all.”

“But, Arya, he doesn’t have any possible reason to really want it, to really desire me…”

“Different men do desire and do love different women, I was stupid too, when I had believed that only Sansa could be wanted and loved. So my advice, just focus on your feelings, what do you really want…”

Arya stopped suddenly noticing him. “So think good, Brienne,” she waived goodbye to her friend.

Brienne awkwardly greeted him,” Lord Tywin,” and took her leave in strange haste. 

“So your big friend has found an admirer? Why you do not advice her honestly; just do not trust the deceiver who is obviously after her father’s castle?”

“Tywin, her father’s castle is not the case here, and please, don’t ask me anything, it is between us girls.”

“Since when did Brienne turn into a girl?” he suppressed the chuckle, “Never mind, I do care less, let’s go home,” he offered Arya his hand.

They went back to the Tower quarters, collecting Nymeria on their way to the chambers. 

Later at night he caught himself observing Arya’s reaction while they made love. He was relieved his girl was as wet and responsive as always.

When she straddled him and started moving her hips he did not try to object her dominance. He put his hand between their bodies, rubbing Arya’s swelling nub between his fingers, giving his girl the additional sensation, which made her arch back and moan.

Soon all his thoughts went blank, as Arya’s inner walls clenched around his cock, juices of her release dripped on his thighs, she collapsed on him, breathing his name into his chest, making him to spend at the same moment.

He was holding her tight to his chest afterwards, his body content, and his mind placid. She is and she will remain his Arya, his wolf girl, and his wife not only by name but by her genuine desire, and he wouldn’t let it be any other way.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am tremendously sorry for such delay. Thank you so much for all your reviews and kudos.

Arya charged too close, attacking Brienne, and the heavy training sword of the Maid of Tarth brushed her bicep. The pain stung hard

“Are you all right? Sorry, I tried to not do it,” Brienne was apologetic to Arya who tried to not whine from the pain. 

“Not your fault at all, “ Arya managed to answer politely. It was a truth as Arya had became carried away and rushed towards Brienne forgetting about her size and strength. She was sure nothing was broken, but she could not continue. 

It was a pity, as they just had begun and it was an effort to persuade Brienne to parry with her. Big girl had been afraid to hurt her accidentally initially but had given up reluctantly.

Tywin had forbid her to spar after a similar accident had happened when he had been fighting with her. 

“No more sword playing until your teacher will arrive, especially with people trice your size,” overreacted her lion.

Tywin had some right in it, with her slight form but fearless attitude and unrealistic desire to win she would be better off with bravossy rapier style. And if she would become a true Water Dancer, the size of the opponent wouldn’t matter any more: she would get them all.

Of course she wouldn’t call for the maester now, “Brienne, do you have this salve you had told me about lately?”

As a “seasoned” fighter, Brienne knew everything about tending the little injuries. And her big friend preferred to be as self sufficient as possible…

They headed to the Tower. Tywin should be in his Council meeting, so they could take care of her arm unnoticed. Actually the pain was not acute any more, but the sooner the arm would be treated, the less the bruise would be visible which was essential to Arya, due to Tywin’s reaction.

It would be unwise to be unwell for their journey to Riverrun for the negotiation of the treaties with her brother which she was so exited about.

It would be unwise to tempt Tywin’s wrath, especially with Brienne involved. His future good- daughter was not among his favorite people for sure. 

………..

It made Arya’s heart sink in sadness every time she recalled her husband’s reaction on Jaime’s announcement about his choice of wife. It had been her bad luck, that her lion had overheard her conversation with Brienne the other day. 

Her humorous response, “It is between us girls,” had been remembered and had been considered as a betrayal of some sort, 

“I thought your priorities were with your husband, not with some training yard companion, who is not even related to you to protect her secrets such,” was the only accusation he had thrown at her. 

Several days of cold hell had followed afterwards. He had not been talking to her, unless it was a necessity, and even then only with a few unemotional words. He had not been touching her at night, even accidentally in sleep, as he usually used to. 

It had not been the punishment he would bestow on her on purpose, as her lion had been suffering equally from his chosen estrangement, as his eyes had not been just cold and indifferent, but had looked harder and darker avoiding to meet hers.

On the fifth day Arya couldn’t stand it any more, she had entered swiftly his solar, where her husband had stayed now unusually later, and had approached his seating form. He had not even lifted his eyes from the parchment, 

“My dear lord, please understand, I would never tell anyone a word about things you are mentioning to me, and you never asked me so. Brienne had asked me specifically do not tell about it, she actually took my word for it.”

She dared to come close to her lord husband, who had been seating by his desk with some letter, and put her hand on his shoulder, “Tywin, my priorities and my heart are with you, I just did not consider Brienne as a threat.” 

He had not flinched at her touch, as she had feared, had turned to her, fixing his gaze at her eyes, testing her for her sincerity or for her falsehood. Then he just had pulled her on his lap, holding her tight to his chest and had buried his face in her hair.

Only after a minute or so he had uttered, “ As I can’t rut out this dammed Stark honor from you, I just should get used to living with it.”

Than after a little while, still holding her, “No, Brienne is not a threat, but she is a less favorable choice than a bride from one of the seven prominent families would be, but if her father will not remarry, the Sapphire Island will be ruled by Lannisters.”

 

 

………….

 

 

Nymeria was happy to see Arya so soon and followed them up to the staircase to the chambers. 

“You’ll bring the ointment, I’ll be ready for you,” she sent Brienne off to her room and approached the Hand’s private quarters. They should hurry, as the counsel meeting could be over any time soon.

It was a quiet time, as the maids usually were done with their routine. She left her guards with the one who was standing by the door of the empty chambers, obviously bored, and entered the place with Nymeria by her side.

The next second they were inside and her direwolf dashed ahead towards the bedroom with a low growl, Arya followed as fast as she could. 

She heard the body falling, not the big one obviously, and Nymeria’s growl was menacing now. As she approached, she saw Nymeria was by the hearth, looming over a child’s form. 

“Who are you? What are you doing here? You better speak or my wolf will tear you apart alive,” whoever this child was, he was up to no good; that was obvious, so Arya was not scrupulous about the choice of words.

She put her hand on Nymeria’s nape, made her to back up a little. “Sit down and talk, I am not joking here.” 

The little body gingerly moved and turned to sit down. It was a girl about nine or ten with dark curly hair and big almond shape light brown eyes and the olive skin. She would be considered a beautiful girl, if not for the ugly fresh scar across her cheek.

The girl was trembling, which was understandable. It took about a month for the Tower’s staff to get use to Nymeria, and her direwolf had not attacked anyone like this. 

Arya had not seen this girl around the servants, plus only several assigned maids were allowed to enter the Hand’s private chambers.

The child was clenching something in her fist. “Give it to me,” demanded Arya, already knowing what it could be. Of course, it was a little flask with obvious content. 

“Who sent you? You better answer the truth, or else…” she pointed to Nymeria. 

“Lord Baelish,” the child uttered with a weak whisper.

“Is the secret passage through the fireplace?” Arya noticed the boots and the breaches of the child were covered with fresh ashes.

The girl nodded slightly. 

“Who cut your face?”

“Myself.”

“Why?”

“So not to become a prostitute.”

So as the girl had rebelled, that dammed Littlefinger was using her as assassin. Arya suddenly felt pity for her. But, if she had not returned so unexpectedly…this girl wouldn’t feel pity for them.

“Was it meant for?” Arya pointed to the flask commanding the girl to finish her sentence.

“Wine goblet,” the girl was shaking terrible now.

“Are you going to kill me?” she managed to ask.

“I can’t guaranty your life, as it will be up to the lord Hand. I’ll try to spare you, but I will not fight for your life .” 

As Brienne returned , Arya asked her to call for the head of the guards and gave him firm orders; to call for her lord husband, to arrest Littlefinger and to call for the maestre, as the poison should be identified.

The guard tried to argue politely that only the lord Hand himself could give him the arrest order. 

“I don’t think lord Tywin will be too happy with you, if you let Littlefinger get away,” and she sent them off pondering about their choices. 

She stayed with Brienne, Nymeria and the little unfortunate assassin, her injured arm long forgotten.

“Now tell me, how did you end up in Littlefinger’s clutches?” Arya sat beside the girl hugging Nymeria.

 

…………………….

 

Tywin was back to his chambers later in the evening. It was not dark yet, but Arya was soundly sleeping with Nymeria by her side, literally on his side of bed. Given the later circumstances he even couldn’t be angry, the direwolf had proved to be the alert and capable guard in truth. Yes, very alert indeed, as she was already up, looking at him.

“Nymeria, down,” he called her quietly, maintaining eye contact. She had never tried to growl at him again after their confrontation in the tent two month ago, but she had never taken his bed territory before. 

“Nymeria, come,” this command she always obeyed, as it was almost a routine for him to bring the direwolf to his wife in the morning. But he wouldn’t try to bring her back outside by himself of course.

Nymeria jumped off the bed, approached him, sniffed the sleeve of his coat and looked at him afterwards.

“Yes, girl, it is blood, I just made a kill,” he petted her nape for a second. “Go, lay down there, “ he pointed to the fur rug on the floor. Nymeria followed command, to his surprise. Arya was right about it: the direwolf has learned to respect him.

He changed the bloodied clothes, it was a long time ago that he had killed someone by his own hand. It was not Littlefinger’s blood; he was not Stark and did not believe in executing his own sentences. This kill he had made just out of precautions. 

 

Arya stirred in her sleep, if she would wake up, he might ask her a few questions that were eating him up since dammed Littlfinger’s revelations. He knew she wouldn’t lie to him: her Stark honor would be the best insurance of that. 

In spite of all this brooding, he was proud of his little wolf girl, if not for her steadfast orders, Baelish probably would be very far away from here already.

………..

The council meeting had been almost over, when his guards had stepped in, the same minute Littlefinger had tried carefully to get out, but one of the guards had blocked the door, in spite of his protests. Even before the head of Tywin’s guards had started reporting to him, he knew Baelish was afraid of something. 

 

He had confirmed his wife’s order with the guard and they took the protesting Littlefinger away. He had rushed to his chambers.

The trembling child who had almost spilled the Tears of Liz in his wine flask was not lying; her connection with Baelish was obvious.

He had made the gesture to the guard to take her away and finish her off outside, the unfortunate girl would meet the same end even if she would be successful in her mission, Baelish wouldn’t leave such a witness alive.

Of course, The Maid of Tarth immediately had blocked the door, raving so predictable something about the poor child’s innocence and his mercilessness.

“Good, if this stupid big wench would dare to fight his guard, it would be a solid reason to break the unpleasant engagement,” he had almost smirked at the thought. 

“Can I have a word with you in private, my lord?” Arya had been surprisingly composed. 

They had stepped to the adjusted little room and at first his girl had hugged him clinging to him tightly. He had tightened the embrace; both of them had needed the closeness at the moment.

“I had disobeyed you, and it ironically had saved our lives, so don’t be angry about my bruise,” she had whispered into his chest.

“No, I will not, just make sure to let the maestre examine it,” he had caressed her all over.

“And about this child, “ she continued, “I would like to spare her life, as it was not her own free choice to do it. Littlefinger is holding her little brother and had promised to kill him if she would refuse, and her mother had died recently.”

She made a pause, “I know, you don’t care about people’s woes, and what I do care the most is about us together, this child is nothing to me, I wouldn’t hold a grunge, if you will proceed with her execution.”

“But”, she had looked up into his eyes, and continued, “the affliction of her family had started when your soldiers had sacked the King’s Landing; one simple carpenter had tried to save his wife from the rape and they both had been brutally killed, their daughter, who was about my age, had been raped by the same brave lannister soldier of yours and had become a prostitute afterwards. She was the mother of this unfortunate child.” 

She had not been pleading with him, he could not see the accusation in her huge grey eyes , the decision was up to him. 

He couldn’t explain clearly why he decided to spare the girl after Arya’s words. It couldn’t be because of some silly compassion, he was not that soft of man at all. It couldn’t be because of guilt, as he had never been able to feel such before. 

“So did you assume, that as a true Lannister I should pay my debt to this one now? Very well done, my dear,” he had planted a light kiss on Arya’s forehead.

“One more, if this girl is ever seen on Red Keep premises again, she will be killed on the spot, so however you want to help her, do it fast. I am off to question Littlefinger,” he had left swiftly, releasing the child on his way.

……………

Arya opened her eyes and smiled at him, “I know, it is still early to sleep, but I felt so tired after all this. We did not have dinner yet, and I am hungry, she sat up on the bed, her arm had the bandage.

He pointed to it, “Does it hurt?”

“Not at all, just some ointment under it, I’ll be well for our trip. Can I just put on some breaches and tunic for dinner tonight?” his wife asked with a small voice. As he did not indulge her such liberties too often, Arya’s face lit up, when he nodded.

 

“So, what did you do with our little assassin? Did you reward her enough for her deadly attempt?” he asked sarcastically but without any malice. 

“I have sent her very far away, the place I had been invited once. Has Littlefinger talked?” 

“He has talked, indeed, he has talked too much to let him live another hour, as well as the executioner, who had witnessed his revelations, live another minute.”

He poured himself some wine, “If the wine would be poisoned, I would be dead after one sip, you would be accused in doing it and executed, the peace would be impossible to achieve and the dammed little bastard would gain the real power.”

……..

 

Baelish had been broken under the pain sooner that Tywin would have expected, plus he just knew that he wouldn’t have had a chance for mercy, so he hadn’t left out any grisly detail of his manipulations.

It could have been as the damned Mockingbird in his last hour of doom had been mocking him, the powerful Lion, with his mightiness. He had been laughing out the words while describing how he had manipulated Lysa Arryn to force Lannisters and Starks against one another. 

Now he should decide something about Lysa Arryn; she had poisoned her own husband, blaming the deed on Lannisters, she had tried to kill Tyrion, probably knowing well about his innocence. 

Lannisters do pay their debts, was she Arya’s aunt or not. He would send her the head of her lover and would let the lords of the Valley do justice to her rather than drag her to King’s Landing which would be almost impossible geographically.

………..

“Do you know that Littlefinger had recognized you back in Harrenhall,” he turned to his wife, 

“I had been afraid he would, do you remember, how nervous I had been,” Arya smiled.

“But instead of telling me, he had hired someone to watch after you,” he continued. The smile left his wife’s face and she was looking at him with alert expression now.

“So, I just have a few questions, my dear, “ he fixed his gaze in her huge gray eyes. Can you promise to tell me the truth?

Arya silently nodded. He was thinking hard how to start with it without terrifying his little wife.

“Did you have a foreign friend among the soldiers in Harrenhall?”

Arya nodded again, she was obviously worried, was biting her lip.

“Quit doing it. The angry bruise, the cracked lip, do I deserve all this?” she stopped immediately and relaxed a bit due to his joke.

“He was just a prisoner who was taken to the Wall with us, I had saved his life,” explained Arya.

“Did he kill Amory Lorch for you?”

She nodded.

“I had suspected something, as the dead man was holding the parchment missing from my desk in his hand, and you, my lovely cupbearer, had walked in right after he had fallen.”

He was relived Arya was not afraid any more, just alert, observing him carefully.

“But I had dismissed the idea as an assassin with such skills would cost a fortune to hire,” he continued.

“Was he a faceless man?” he asked sharply.

“Yes, he is, he had left the same evening we had kissed the first time. He wanted me to join him, to become a faceless one too,” good, his girl started sharing with him freely.

Good, it had not been anything personal between them, just a gesture of gratitude and desire to gain a talented apprentice for the guild. 

“I am glad you had chosen me instead, although I am sure you would be more gifted that Baelish’s choice. Did you send her to the house of Black and White?”

“Yes, and she owes us one life for sparing hers,” Arya smiled.

“At last, are you in any kind of contact with this faceless man now? If yes, I would like him in my service,” it was a tricky question; Tywin needed a man like this but far from his wife. He was relieved to receive the negative answer.

There was one more thing, the actual reason to put the dagger into the executioner’s neck right after he had cut Littlefinger’s throat.

“Was Joffrey’s death your doing as well?” he had asked Baelish at the end.

“I did plan it also, but someone, maybe the same faceless man of your Arya had managed to do it before me,” had been his insolent answer.

No, he would leave it out, nobody could know for sure who did it any way, plus to rule the kingdom without the half mad boy was much easier. 

The servants brought the food. During the dinner he told Arya everything about Littlefinger’s confession. He was relieved she did not try to protect her aunt,

“I think she would commit suicide, as soon as she will lay her eyes on his head, as crazy and devoted to him as she is,” his wife was straightforwardly cynical.

They were already in bed, no lovemaking tonight, as they kept Nymeria in the room, until the passage will be blocked from inside tomorrow. 

“I do have a question about one more secret you are keeping from me,” he asked softly.

“What, something more about the faceless?” she was alarmed again.

“No. And I probably will wait with it until we will be hunting overnight with Nymeria, as you couldn’t resist using your ability then, could you?”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sincerely sorry for such prolonged delay☹. Promise to finish the story within a month. I thankful for you patience.:)) Would appreciate your reviews.

As they approached closer to Riverrun, Arya’s heart was beating faster. She even started felling hot in spite of the cold sharp wind. The winter gradually was claming Westeros — the nights were much colder now than they were several months ago during their march from Harrenholl. 

This trip took them almost two weeks. This time they spent their nights comfortably in castles, strongholds and inns that they passed by. Even if they made it occasionally outside, their tent was big and comfortable, with a hearth. All these commodities took up the space in their wagons forcing them to move slowly which irritated Arya. How many times had she just wanted to gallop ahead but stopped herself in order not to anger her husband. Although their scouts had never reported anything suspicious, lord Tywin wouldn’t want her to take a risk riding in a small group separate from the others. 

He had his rights in it, of course: one night she was wandering around in Nymeria’s body and saw a group of about ten man or so. They looked like some hedge knights, as ragged as they were, and did not have a banner. But they easily could be outlaws as well. She did not mess with them and did not tell Tywin about this discovery. The matter was not worth admitting her ability to him and she was sure the suspicious group wouldn’t dare to approach them as they had more than three hundred mounted archers and man-at-arms. 

Tully’s castle was emerging already in the sunset sky as an enormous ship. Who was going to meet them? How well would they be received? Would they be invited inside before the treaties will be finely signed? Or, should she say the truth, before the capitulation of the King of the North, as his repudiation of the independence of the North would leave him with a hollow title. Robb would feel humiliated of course and would never learn what terrible destiny he had escaped.

To calm herself down she repeated all good arguments once again. By observing her husband all these late months she could conclude that he was ruling without unnecessary cruelty. As soon as Robb had agreed to meet, lord Tywin sent The Mountain back to his stronghold and the Lannister soldiers ceased to torment Riverrun’s peasants. Burned villages and blackened fields will remind everyone about the Lannister’s atrocity for a long time, she was not proud with her married name while observing such lands. However, it gave her a little relief and hope to see some people rebuilding their simple homes and working in the fields. If the peace would remain, these people might be able to survive the winter.

She did not have any wrong assumptions about her lord husband, as the lion would never turn himself into a harmless kitten. As proof she just had to remember his justice for the men who were working for Littlefinger and were given away so easily by their employer. They had been questioned and, in their turn, gave away some others, the less important ones, who just had provided them with some pieces of information. One of Arya’s handmaidens had fallen among these unfortunate people. “They all had been warned the first morning of our arriving”, — Tywin had prevented her attempt to advocate for the stupid girl who couldn’t resist easy coins for just telling some details about their routine. 

So, all who were somehow involved were beheaded or hanged. “Excellent example to other fools”, — the great lion commented. Her softhearted sister had wined something about unnecessary cruelty, lamenting, probably, about her “Florian”. But she had better learn by now what price she would pay for being so naïve and trusting.

Sansa alienated herself from Arya once again and spent almost all her time inside the wagon with her childhood friend who had been released from Littlefinger’s brothel. Jeyne was afraid of Arya now and was avoiding her probably not knowing any longer how to act around her. Sure, she couldn’t tease the lady of the great lion any more. As Arya was probably one of her less favorite people, it was difficult for her. When they would arrive to the castle Sansa would be inseparable from their mother.

How would she be treated by her mother and by her brother? Would they think her a victim or a traitor? She wouldn’t want to be either. Nor would she want them to turn against her husband. As a real lady, her mother would less likely insult Tywin: it would be unreasonable. But her lord-husband did mention a couple of times that her mother is not in the good terms with logic and reason. Arya did not attack him for this insult, although she was always reacting like “a mad she wolf” at any word against her father, according to Tywin.

It was irritating to her to think politically, throwing aside the hatred, the desire for revenge, and even the adherence to principles. Would her father blame her for this? 

But, do they really need principles for any cost? As Tommes is Lannister’s bastard, the Iron Throne belongs by right to Stannis Baratheon, which her father had claimed in front of the court. But, would it be the right thing to give the power to someone as evil as Stannis? The “king” who was kneeling to the foreign god, was burning septas, God’s woods and people in his name? The “king” who had killed his own brother with the help of some black magic? She was sure her father had not had a clue about all this.

Hopefully, the truth about Petyr Baelish would help her to avoid confrontation with her mother. Would she believe her word? No witnesses were left —Tywin did it for her sake. He had never mentioned to her about the “Faceless man” after that night but she could imagine how easily Littlefinger may had connected Jaqen with Joffrey’s death. Sure this accusation would be impossible to prove but it did not diminish to her Tywin’s’s attitude towards the matter. If she was right in her assumptions, Tywin could put aside the fact that Joffrey was his own blood. The mere realization there her lion’s priorities lay with her now made her heart skip a bit. She wouldn’t let anyone including her mother, Robb, or some relatives from the Tully’s side to convince her otherwise. 

It was almost funny she couldn’t keep her other secret from Tywin any longer. The book: Ser Kevan’s birthday present to her had a comprehensive legend about wargs in it and her lion read it. He hinted to her about his knowledge several times afterwards. She joked back of course feeling more uneasy than she had felt when he had undressed her the first time.

They were almost there. Her lord husband ordered the setting of the camp between the rivers, facing the moat of Riverrun’s main gates, while they, Sansa, Jeyne, Brienne and several men-at-arms escorted the party to the drawbridge, there, a little group was already waiting for them. 

While Arya desperately tried to distinguish the familiar faces among the riders, Nymeria suddenly bolted out towards a direwolf even bigger than herself, who was also rushing to her. 

“This is Grey Wind!” she turned to Tywin, “It means, Robb is here as well and wouldn’t change his mind.” 

Tywin nodded to her with satisfaction and she sighed with relief as well — her lord-husband would be offended if the King of the North wouldn’t choose to greet him in person. Meanwhile two direwolfs sniffed at each other and started to wrestle, roll on the ground, run in circles, as if they were two pups, not the fearsome beasts they were. 

As we got closer she recognized her brother, although he looked much more mature now. Her mother wrapped in some dark cape, looked finer and somehow haggard. Arya suddenly felt ashamed of not writing to her. Lady Catelyn was in company of a gray-haired man who had windburnt dark face and bushy brows and was wearing grim and gray ringmail. Several knights were flanking the procession. 

Their wagon stopped and her sister flew outside and rushed towards their mother who was already dismounting with the help of the older man. The next moment Sansa was in her arms. Tywin and Robb dismounted as well, shook hands reservedly, and stepped aside discussing something. With one springly jump Arya was on the ground giving her rein to the nearby guard.

“My grand-niece Arya,” the gray-haired man greeted her with a good-natured grin, “Cat did not exaggerate at all,” he cast her an approving gaze.

“Ser Brynden, glad to meet you,” she nodded and held out her hand in a man’s manner, which he firmly shook. In her man’s riding outfit it was quite a natural gesture. So that was The Blackfish. She could remember she overheard about this stubborn, straightforward and valiant man back in Winterfell.

Now she should greet her mother, who still was embracing Sansa. They both were sobbing distinctively. Arya felt panicky for a moment: what would she do if her mother wouldn’t talk to her? But she overpowered her fear and headed towards them, “Mama!”

“Arya, my little girl,” lady Catelyn let go of Sansa and pulled Arya pressing her in a tight embrace, “You are alive and well, that is more important. How much did you have to go though”!

“The recent months were mostly good, so don’t even worry about me,” she looked up to her mother with moist eyes and smiled sincerely. Nymeria and Grey Wind approached them. Nymerya gave away a little growl at first but calmed down right after sniffing at lady Catelyn. 

“You are a real Tully, Sansa. This is amazing, Cat — she is your live copy,” The Blackfish kissed abashed Sansa in both cheeks. 

“Lady Catelyn,” lord Tywin’s voice was flat as usual, but he politely bowed his head to her mother.

“Lord Lannister, how generous of you to give me the opportunity to greet you after so many moons since the day you had forcefully married my underage child-daughter!” Arya feared that something like this could happen and was now praying to all existing gods that her mother’s sarcasm wouldn’t go forward.

“I wouldn’t offer any excuses to you, lady Stark, but in your place I would refrain myself from unreasonable conclusions and sweeping accusations,” Tywin cut her off without raising his voice and turned away from lady Catelyn.

My dear, I wish you a good time with your family. I will use the proposed hospitality right after the agreement would be sealed,” he leaned to her and kissed her forehead. 

“I did not expect he would let you go,” her mother still was in disarray. They had already crossed the bridge and were riding towards the castle. 

“You did grow up, little sister. I can only admire how well this giant is obeying you,” Robb pointed at Thundercloud, “Look at you , and all of the conservativeness of lord Tywin crumbling to smithereens.”

“Did not expect to see you in such clothes,” her mother agreed with Robb, “And even with weapons!” she pointed to her Needle. 

“Don’t worry, I do have enough dresses. This is only for riding and training.”

“What? He also lets you fight?” her mother sounded terrified. 

“Unfortunately, no. We do have big differences on this subject. But, Robb, I hope we could compete in archery sometime,” she winked at her brother.

“I’ll give you several lessons, little niece, so you could beat His Majesty,” interjected ser Brynden, “I must admit you have managed to achieve the impossible — conquer the old lion.”

“Nonsense, Arya is still a child and he is already an old man. How quickly and furtively he had managed to do it,” her mother couldn’t calm herself down.

“Such spontaneous marriage was necessary to protect me against Cersei and Joffrey,” Arya tried to stand up for her husband. She also knew there was some truth in her words. 

“Sansa wrote me that you had been his cupbearer at first, that you were passing for a commoner. How had he figured out who you were?”

“Your childhood friend, Petyr Baelish, mother. He had visited lord Tywin in Harrenholl: they were discussing our possible exchange for Kingslayer,” this small sham would prevent her from further unwanted questions. 

“I can’t get it: on whose side was he? Some rumors have reached us that Petyr had been exposed and executed. What was the plot?” good, her mother was more curious than upset about Littlefinger. 

“He had sent a child with Tears of Lis to our chambers. We were saved by pure accident; luckily Nymeria was with me and could catch the assassin. I will tell you everything later, in private,” no strangers should overhear about tarnishing facts regarding Lysa Arryn’s involvement.

“I had trusted him as my own brother,” her mother lowered her head. Arya continued Littlefinger’s story only in lady Catelyn’s private chambers, after welcoming dinner with her family and some northern lords. According to the multiple unfriendly looks towards her, her union with the Warden of the West did not agree with the most of Robb’s bannerman. Her mother had surprised her by praising her appearance and her manners as they were as impeccable as her sister’s. They both, without arranging it with each other, choose the Tully’s colors for tonight: Sansa — the light blue dress, Arya — a more dark blue one.

“Lysa is my sister. I always knew about her feelings towards Petyr, but how she could possibly betray her own family for a childhood crush? How could she coldly poison her husband pretending to be a disconsolate widow afterwards? I refuse to believe it. But, if lord Tywin is making it up, how could he know about the letter Lysa had sent to us? But, if lord Tywin was not lying, why had he executed Litlefinger so soon? I would be more relieved if I could hear Petyr’s confession and look into his eyes,” her mother couldn’t calm down.

“I already told you, mama, he had a heart attack. He was not a warrior: was not able to handle the pain. If you don’t believe my words about his attempt to poison us, you could ask Brienne: she had been there at this moment with me. Tywin doesn’t have any need in such intrigues. Just don’t tell me you would prefer Lysa’s confession in public,” Arya tried to reason with her.

“I didn’t have any news from my sister for a while. The last time we met she was not in her best state of mind. So, I don’t have any reasons to not believe you. Just, all this is so contemptible and disgusting that it is difficult for me to comprehend,” concluded lady Catelyn after a long pause.

“But, it’s hard to deny, it is good that your husband have accepted Nymerya, that’s probably the only one thing I can like about him. Robb’s wife can’t stand the presence of The Gray Wind,” admitted her mother reluctantly.

“They do respect each other,” Arya told the truth that time. 

It was later night when they left lady Catelyn alone. Arya sincerely felt for her, as what her mother had just heard was another unexpected blow for her. She wished good night to Sansa and retreated to the chambers she was given. Tomorrow she would be there with Tywin. She had to show firmness to her mother, as lady Catelyn was insisting on different rooms for her and her lord husband. But tonight she actually wanted to be alone. She would go to bed and would turn into Nymeria. Her girl was hunting now with her brother, The Gray Wind. She should be sure they would be back in the morning.

***

Tywin did not expect he would be welcomed here. So he was not affected by the spiteful words of lady Stark at all. In any case, they both, lady Catelyn and her son, should appreciate his trust in them. However, if he was not so sure about the capitulation of the North, he wouldn’t let Arya go even for a day. 

He commanded double the guards tonight. Although their scouts did not detect anything suspicious, he was not so naïve. He was sure Robb wouldn’t do any kind of infamy — it was not Stark’s style. But the remaining Carstark’s sworn swords could do such. He did not trust Roose Bolton also. In spite of a good amount of gold Tywin had paid him for peaceful retreat of his army, the man showed dissatisfaction of not becoming a new Warden of the North. However the likes of Bolton couldn’t deny gold, it did not mean the flayed man wouldn’t try to play dirty against the alliance. After Baelish’s treason he mast be careful and alarmed. And for some fools who were sharpening their daggers behind his back, they best remember The Rains of Castamere. 

It was lonely in his tent without his wolf girl. It would be just one night not having Arya by his side; he reproached himself immediately for his own weakness. His wife was probably too busy even to think about him now. No doubts, she had a difficult time with her mother and now was Arya-Wolf time. He had noticed two direwolfs were running happily towards the forest.

His girl was stubborn in keeping her secret from him; that’s understandable but a bit disappointing nevertheless. He really liked this book of Northern legends; the stories seemed to be more interesting if you read them without the usual skepticism. It would feed his curiosity to communicate with Nymeria-Arya once again. 

With such strange thoughts he drifted into sleep. So then suddenly something wet   
touched his cheek, he was sure he was dreaming it. 

He opened his eyes only after he felt a hard push. Nymeria was towering over him. She growled something and pointed her blood-stained muzzle towards the entrance.


	16. Chapter 16

Nymeria led them through a wooded glen for about a half hour. Tywin brought thirty horsemen with him, although the she wolf let him know that even ten would be sufficient. It was terrifyingly weird to observe her interaction, but he couldn’t complain, as his own wish just had been fulfilled — his girl was opening up to him at last. At first it was difficult to adapt to her attempts of human-like communication. It sounded somehow between low growls and whines. Meanwhile her eyes of fiery amber were burning into him with comprehension, her stare was pleading with him and demanding of him at the same time. That turned off his usual skeptical attitude — it could be only something important if his wolf girl decided on trusting him. 

Nymeria had been pacing impatiently by the entrance while his squire was helping him into his armor. It did not take long as he chose to limit it down to the protection of the torso only. As his people had already grown accustomed to his wife’s wolf, the boy did not panic with Nymeria’s presence. Another thing he was really grateful for — his guards never dared criticize or even discuss his orders, even one so strange as to follow a wolf. So he couldn’t detect even the slightest smirk from them. 

They arrived at last. He new about the fighting achievements of the King-of-the-North  
‘s wolf and shouldn’t be surprised much, but what they were witnessing on the clearing was impressive nevertheless. According to the turned limbs and opened throats the men weren’t prepared well for such an attack armor wise. What the hell Nymeria and Grey Wind had been doing here was not clear at all. Everything was almost over so what she needed him for was another question. By observing briefly he could count up to twelve bodies already. On the side of the clearing the enormous direwolf was blocking the exit to three more armed men, growling ominously and dodging their sword thrusts. Nymeria ran to him to pitch in.

“I do need them alive,” he shouted to her and to his guards as well. His men were hesitant at first to approach the Grey Wind and he repeated his command. Of course they obeyed at last, dismounted and started to approach the fighters from behind. He just could hope that Grey Wind wouldn’t attack Lannister men. But the next moment the direwolf jumped on one man and knocked him down with a powerful impact of his front paws. The man’s sword pierced frozen ground and the strong wolf’s jaws closed on the throat of the fallen. 

His men used the time given and arrested the two other men without even the slightest resistance form them. It seemed rather a better choice for them to be taken into custody that keep fighting the four-legged monsters. But Grey Wind apparently did not like this noticing when he was done with his victim. Thank gods, Nymerya listened to his previous command and placed herself between her ominously growling brother and his guards while they were taking the men away. 

“Good girl,” he dismounted and approached her, “And now explain to me, why you brought me here? Why I should care about these people? They wouldn’t attack us by any chance.”

She wolf whined and padded across the clearing. She turned her head back several times to be sure he was following her. Grey Wind caught up with her. Tywin signaled to the guard who was checking the bodies and had the lighted torch in his hand to light the way.

He could detect something dark on the ground under the bushes. As he approached more closely he could see another enormous direwolf was laying prone. The small body of a little child was clinging to it. Gray Wind sat down on his hunches and started his heart-trembling howling. Nymeria turned towards him once again, her eyes glared at him with demand.

“Is he one of the youngest Starks’?” He approached the boy who was cuddling into the bloody sticky wolf’s fur. His body was trembling in muffled cries. So he was right about his assumptions. It didn’t mean of course that Arya would let Theon Greyjoy live. He wouldn’t suggest to her to allow it as his betrayal should be punished. Anyway, they better finish with Pike for good. 

He leaned to the boy and broke his body away from the dead wolf. The boy was wrapped in some furs and tatters, his arms and legs were tied up, and he had some rag in his mouth. Tywin immediately released him from the gag and cut the ropes.

 

“Are you Bran or Rickon?” it was not easy to discern the age right away. The child did not react at first. But after a minute or so, when his body adjusted to freedom, he jumped up to his feet and bolted away. But luckily Nymeria sprang in front of him. He lost his balance, flew towards her and caught her by the neck. Tywin took the child by his shoulders, “Rickon, tomorrow you’ll be reunited with your mother, brother and sisters. Was Bran here with you?”

“You are a lion, I don’t trust you. I will not go with you anywhere,” little Stark was looking at the golden lioness on his shoulder, that was probably shining ominously by the light of the torch. Rickon tried to wriggle out from him, kicked him, and even bit his finger through the leather glove. Tywin made himself stop from slapping the lips of the little insolent. This one and his Arya apparently had a lot in common.

“You don’t have another choice but to trust me and Nymeria. You own sister’s wolf brought me here,” he turned the boy around to face him. Rickon’s left eye was swollen indicating it had not been an easy task to bind him . Tywin gave the boy his famous stern look, “Quit resisting or I’ll restrain you again.”

“Milord,” one of his guards carefully approached them, “This people were sell swords. They had been hired by the Frey’s to find the urchin traveling with the direwolf…”

“Watch your mouth, or loose your tongue, idiot. This is my lady wife’s brother.”

“And you better behave appropriate, as a lord’s son should,” he kept his stare at the boy. He was surprised Rickon did not lower his head and did not look away. Even Arya couldn’t resist his stern countenance but on occasion. 

“Where is Osha? When they took me she was not around. I will not go without her. I will not go without Shaggydog,” he sounded demanding, but on the verge of hysterical outburst. 

He managed to wriggle out, run to his dead furry friend, hugged him and burst into tears, loudly wailing.

Tywin decided to let him be, he would wear out and would calm down eventually. He ordered to scout around for this Osha. A woman who looked like a wildling was found by the spring. Apparently, she tried to get some water and was killed by the sword’s blow in her back.

Was time to leave for his camp. Tomorrow he would deliver the boy, the dead bodies of his companions, and the captured sell swords to the King of the North. How the Stark family would react? Would they see some cunning attempt in his deed? It would be rather pathetic, him showing up with the little Stark in the morning right before the treaties. By any means, it would be just the act of a good relative. However, just as his beloved Arya had problems accepting herself to be a Lannister he too was still quiet uncomfortable with the Starks as his new good relatives.

He approached Rickon with Nymeria by his side. The boy had calmed down and just shivered. She wolf licked his wet cheek. Tywin did not have any idea how to talk to the grief stricken child but he needed to try, “You should be strong, Rickon, you are Stark after all,” Nymeria looked at him approvingly and even nodded like a human, “Your wolf gave his live for you, as well as did your companion. That loyalty is rare, especially the loyalty not paid by gold. Just remember them, Rickon. We should go now,” the boy took his offered hand after hesitating a little and he led him to his horse.

 

***

 

Arya felt that her wolf head would explode from the tension. To control herself now was much more difficult than to do it in the regular human state. Plus, she needed to control Gray Wind also. She was not sure wherever Robb had been inside him or had not. They magically understood each other’s thoughts, but it was not any human-like conversation, it was not world-like. It was the wolf’s sense, probably. This wolf’s sense had called them to go to Shaggydog. Unfortunately they were too late — the moment they burst into the clearing their brother was already bleeding of numerous wounds, trying to get up to his feet but kept falling down again and again from the new blows. Several men dead or wounded were lying down on the ground, but ten more were finishing him off.

The men apparently did not expect more direwolfs to arrive. Nymeria and Grey Wind dashed at them with all wrath imaginable. They both became frenzied with animal rage. She became the complete wolf, the human inside her forgotten. Only after the third man Nymeria had torn apart did Arya came back to her human senses. It was an enormous effort to restrain her wolf’s bloodlust. As soon as she had got control of herself back the realization struck: Shaggydog was not here by himself. It did not take her long to find Rickon, as his dying wolf made it to his little master. 

To make the right decision she focused all her human will power. She could return to her body and bring the help from the castle, but who would believe her? She did not wish to reveal her secret to anyone else. 

“However Tywin already knows. And he is closer, outside the walls. But, he is a Lannister,” the thoughts were fighting against each other. “He is my husband. If he would betray me he would pay dearly,” her decision seemed reasonable enough. 

They were retuning to the camp now. Her lion did not betray her. Arya-Nymerya looked up to lord Tywin with a great satisfaction. The lion was holding Rickon carefully in front of him. Her little brother was already unconscious exhausted from his trial.

It was a relief that she was able to control the return to her human body well enough. She would stay in Nymeria until Rickon would be inside the castle, under the care of her family. Tywin was not used to the company of children, especially one wild and ungovernable like her little brother was. Rickon needed her now as it seemed that he trusted wolves more then humans.

As they arrived back they still had several hours to rest. “I am not septa, and don’t wish to endure his hysterics again. So, make sure that I will not be awakened till morning,” ordered her Tywin with irritation in his voice, “When did he bathe last?” he said as he put Rickon on her bed which his squire had relocated already to the other side of the tent. 

Arya-Nymeria lay beside Rickon. The boy snuggled to her in his sleep. Why Tywin was so critical? Obviously, her brother did not smell fresh, possibly had not bathed during the last cold month at all. But he did not reek of sweat like many knights did. And his clothes talked volumes to her about his life in the wild. Her wolf’s nose could detect easily such smells of the forest: rotten leaves, soil, fire, blood, grease, wolf’s fur. The blood was not fresh and not his, probably one of her seven year old brother’s chores had been to dress their prey. As they were sleeping outside most of the time, Shaggydog had been warming Rickon’s body.

She was gladly surprised she could even think so logical in Nymeria’s body. The most important thing now was to stay inside her wolf without returning accidentally. She did not want Tywin to be so irritating also. She got up carefully, to not disturb her brother and approached Tywin Her lion was already laying down but still awake. She bent her wolf head and licked his cheek. 

“Everything is good, my girl. I am glad you had trusted me at last,” Tywin gently stroked behind her ear. It calmed her and she returned to Rickon. She could hear Grey Wind was howling somewhere close to the castle for his brother.

 

***

 

After waking the young Stark Nymeria stayed by him the entire morning. Tywin was sure Arya was inside her wolf as she was super attentive to the boy who was on the verge of crying every time he was recalling Shaggydog and Osha. However he did not refuse breakfast and gobbled down all the bread, cheese, and ham he could eat.

When it was time to go he put Rickon on the smallest horse his people found and they headed towards the castle. Sir Brynden met their delegation by the drawbridge, “Your grandnephew is here. Thank Nymeria for the deed, she was one who waked me up in the middle of the night,” he decided on telling the truth.

“I would trust the wolf, but I could hardly believe you would do it, Lannister,” the insolent Blackfish smirked at his words. He went to talk to Rickon right away, and even questioned the prisoners. Tywin hardly suppressed the raising rage — he did not expect love or even some warmth from his new good relatives, but he did not deserve such open offensive mistrust from them. 

“As you did not request any terms with Rickon’s return, I’ll try to believe in your good intentions. And thank you, Cat will be swelled with happiness as she could not imagine they could be alive,” said the Tully after riding back to him.

“You are welcome, he is my wife’s brother after all. I hope he will trust you more and will tell you about Bran. He was stubborn to tell me about him. Apparently he has it in his blood — the mistrust towards Lannisetrs,” he smirked. Unlike Arya’s mother the Blackfish has some common sense.

Inside the castle sir Brynden was holding Rickon’s hand. The boy was looking around nervously. “I’ll take Nymeria to my lady’s chamber’s,” he told shortly to the Tully.

“He will show you the way,” Brynden gestured to his man, “See you during the negotiations, milord, “ the Blackfish was not hostile any more.

He stopped by Arya’s door for a second, hesitating — should he enter by himself or just let Nymeria go inside the room? But his curiosity to see her transformation again took over him. He let Nymeria go first and closed the door behind them. She wolf jumped on the bed and towered on Arya’s immobile body. Everything went the same way as their first morning in the Hand’s tower — his girl’s body convulsed for a second and she opened her eyes. But this time she got hold of Nymeria’s neck so her wolf would relax from shock,”It is all right, Nymeria,” they looked at each other’s eyes and she wolf laid herself down by her mistress’s feet. 

“How are you feeling after such night, my dear?” he decided to be straightforward to prevent Arya’s possible attempt of denial of the matter. 

 

“A little awkward, my own body feels strange to me. But it will pass soon. It is the first time I did it for so long,” Arya faltered lowing her eyes. Obviously she was not too comfortable in discussing her secret with him.

“I know you had trusted me solely for Rickon’s benefits. But you shouldn’t worry as it couldn’t change my feelings towards you,” Tywin approached her, leaned down and kissed his wife. Arya entwined her hands around his neck and deepened the kiss. After letting him go she smiled sincerely, “Thank you, Tywin.”

He petted Arya’s check, got up, stroked Nymeria’s nape, “It is time to go to the Big Hall.”

 

***

 

Arya felt relieved — her lion loved and desired her as much as he did before, although he had witnessed the results of the direwolf ‘s fight. The jaws of the beasts did all the bloody work but she worried that Tywin would feel disgusted with her after learning such details about a wolf’s life. 

Good for her own mental health her human part had been partially turned off during the fight. Because even what little she remembered made her still feel nauseated from the remaining taste of the human’s blood in her, already human’s mouth. Among blurry moments her mind captured the rattling noise at the antemortem of her last victim that came along with the fountain of blood right to her wolf’s maw. She was not sorry for killing these men because they had killed Shaggydog and Osha. If Rickon wouldn’t be rescued he would be taken to Twins to fulfill some cruel plans of these dammed Freys. She was wondering what Robb is going to do with the two prisoners.

Arya dressed up, turned known the offered breakfast, and went to visit her young brother. She was sure her mother was happy and was staying by Rickon all the time. Hopefully she would warm up towards Tywin as well. Would be good to give Sansa such great news and take her along. The more important thing — to talk carefully to her family so they wouldn’t suspect anything about her warging. She should remember that the news she learned from her lord husband who brought her Nymeria back. 

They approached Sansa’s room. Some maid who was cleaning there told that lady Sansa had left a long time ago and could possibly be in lady Catelyn’s chambers or they could be together in the greenhouse. This woman did not know about Rickon yet. During their short conversation the maid was looking at Nymeria with unconcealed terror. “Why most people are so afraid of wolves?” Arya signed to herself. Not that she would care about their fear too much — nobody could forbid her to take Nymeria with her. And she would deal with that Jeyne before leaving Tully’s castle — her brother’s wife should get used to Grey Wind if she loved Robb in truth. 

Lady Catelyn made accommodations for her younger son in the chamber adjacent to her own. But, as she had been told, they weren’t together at the moment. Rickon was taking a bath with the assistance of two maids and the Maester of the castle. As Arya approached her mother’s bedchamber she could hear her talking on the verge of tears. Nymeria held her ears down and growled low. Arya immediately took her muzzle in her palms making her calm down right away. 

“It is his first day with you after so long. Don’t overreact, he’ll get used to you again,” the even voice belonged, probably, to sir Brinden.

“It is all my fault but I did not abandon him intentionally. When Bran laid unconscious, the world around did not exist to me, I did not even feel the time passing. If I can’t explain it to myself how could I explain it to him so he could forgive me?” obviously her poor mother was in a difficult situation. Even before all that had befallen them Rickon had been quiet a difficult child — temperamental and willful. Now, after he managed to survive a circumstance that would be difficult for most adults, he became even more stubborn, tough, unforgiving, difficult to capitulate to another’s will. She had learned all this by observing him through the eyes of Nymeria. He wasn’t even afraid of Tywin. But last night she sensed that Rickon took into consideration her husband’s words, although Tywin had talked to her little brother like he was an adult in his typical straightforward and unemotional manner.

Arya decided to stop her eavesdropping, entered the room, and greeted everyone present there, “Good morning, mama, uncle Brinden, Sansa. How is Rickon doing? Can’t wait to see him.”

“He is not so easy to communicate with, Arya. He is not that little child, you probably remember, any longer. But he is alive, that’s matters foremost. Unfortunately he is too stubborn to tell us anything about Bran. Is he alive or not? Maybe he just doesn’t know,” her mother tried to sound calm. 

“Tywin had asked him about Bran without any result as well. As they did not find another direwolf anywhere , Bran probably had not been there with them.”  
“I don’t trust your Lannister. And I don’t understand how could you be so naïve? Such a coincidence — he is bringing the younger Stark right on the day of treaties. Such nobility from the part of the winner!” lady Catelyn was almost shouting at her.

“Mama, how could you say such things?”

“Are you seriously thinking your husband is any better than Petir Bealish was, he who could betray our childhood’s friendship without any remorse? The old Lannister is just using your young body and using you to influence Robb!” her mother apparently was accelerating her negative attitude.

“Cat, calm dawn, we were discussing all this already,” the Blackfish interfered, “Even Robb has agreed that the Hand’s peace terms are reasonable enough. He could support Bolton after all. As Arya and Sansa were Lannister’s prisoners, they could have done much worse to them. You were the one who let the kingslayer go — the word you took from him would be nothing for the old Lannister.”

“Are you on his side, Brinden, or am I mistaken? To marry a child without her family’s consent was not crime enough for you? Arya couldn’t refuse him.”

“I did not have any desire to refuse him. Just remind me, mama, to who did you betrothed me? You did not even care what kind of life I would endure in the Twins.   
Tywin understands and respects me after all.”

“How cheap he bought you daughter — men’s clothing, weapons, war horse. In your “happiness” you even forgot who killed your father. Do you know that the kingslayer was the one who had pushed Bran down? You betrayed us by intermarrying into this family so willingly, you spit into our faces,” her mother was loud now. Arya put her hand on Nymeria’s back to keep her from reacting.

Arya knew that such an outburst could happen sooner or later. The truth about the kingslayer hit her hard as such suspense had come to her once. She had chased it away for Brienne’s benefit — she wished happiness to her friend despite her choice of men and did not want to hate her future husband. Should she include Jaime in her list and wait for the right opportunity? Or, the loss of his sword hand could be considered as some sort of punishment?

Was she compromising with her conscience again and again? She has mastered the logical thinking but she hated herself for it at the same time. Villains did deserve to die, but she couldn’t get them in the given reality. At first she reassured herself that she just was waiting for the right opportunity. Lately she started thinking that her list was childish after all, made out of desperation. Arya Stark was ashamed of her hypocrisy and cowardliness but Arya Lannister had new judgment of a grown up which Tywin had cultivated in her these last months.

“Please, mama, don’t say such words! Arya did not betray us,” Sansa stood up for her. Arya couldn’t believe her ears, “She is strong and honest. She never lets anyone say a single wrong word about our family. I was the one who had behaved as a betrayer,” Sansa faltered for a second, “We should be happy that Arya is loved and loves him back.”

Arya was truly surprised with her sister’s support. She feared that after reuniting with Jeyne she would be back to her antics. She also suspected Sansa was offended with something as she had distanced herself from her once again.

“I really admire you, my little sister, you are brave and fearless, you can stand up for yourself,” continued Sansa, as if she was reading her thoughts, “But, please, I ask you, never become like your lord-husband. I cherish the Arya who was devastated because of the boy who had been wrongly killed. I couldn’t understand you then, as I had been intoxicated with my silly ambitions. Please, try to stay the same Arya I remember,” what, her sister was hinting about was her indifference to the later execution of the Baelish’s spies? She was on the verge of saying something sharp, but Sansa approached her and hugged her, “I love you very much, sister,” Arya rolled her eyes, but saw the tears in Sansa’s eyes. Her anger disappeared.

“We are in the same pack, sister,” she hugged Sansa back, “But we are also just humans and do have our own weaknesses and also do make some stupid mistakes. The wolves are probably much better and much stronger compared to us. They fight till the last drop of their blood, as Shaggydog did. I will fight for us to the end also. But I don’t always choose to do so for strangers. I appreciate your understanding and your acceptance of my feelings towards Tywin. But fear not, I will choose our pack if he would betray my trust in him. But I don’t desire to choose because of some empty principles, as our mother wishes me to do,” she kissed her sister’s cheek, freed herself from her arms, and headed to the door with Nymeria by her heels. She would come back later to see Rickon, but she did not feel like trying to prove something to her mother.


	17. Chapter 17

She was back to lady Catelyn’s chambers in a half hour because Rickon wanted to have Nymeria with him. It was not quiet clear to Arya if he was happy to see his own sister or he was not much so. He got out of his sister’s embrace as soon as he could and snuggled up to her wolf burring his hands in her dense fur.

When the Lannister men had stopped terrorizing the area, Оsha learned from some peasants who were coming back to their abandoned and burned homes about the site of King Robb and lady Katelyn. They were already almost at their objective when they had been unexpectedly attacked. During these long months of their wanderings Оsha and Shaggydog were his only family. It was clear to Arya after, having lost them suddenly, Rickon couldn’t be pleased with his reunion with his real blood family. And that his last memories of his mother had been saddened by her complete indifference towards him which impeded him to accept her again.

“She is our mother. She loves us all equally. She just had felt so desperate when Bran was laying unconscious. Do understand, you would never have anybody as close as your family, your pack,” Arya was trying to say these common truths in the most convincing way as she could, but it was not an easy tusk to convince Rickon to forgive their mother. He was just ignoring her admonitions, and Arya felt too tired at the moment for finding some more wise words in order to help him to understand.

She was not surprised at all when Rickon suddenly recollected about two captives, “I want to give them to Nymeria and Grey Wind so the wolves will tear them to pieces!” at these words the eyes of her little brother have sparkled cold fury.

“This would be up to Robb, but Nymeria will not take part in this,” Arya interrupted him, suppressing a grin. She remembered lord Tywin had threatened one security guard that if he dares once again to have a drink during his service he would be torn to pieces by his wife’s direwolf.

Rickon was angry about the other things too, “Tell her, that I am not the child any more. Why do they fuss so much around me?” Rickon had not liked the master had examining him, clipping his nails and cutting his hair. However, he had not complained about the hot bath which gave hope for his gradual re-immersion to human kind.

She could not achieve any intelligible information about Bran. Rickon stated that his older brother went to the North to search for a three-eyed raven that sounded like some sort of delirium. Where to the North from Winterfell? It could only be towards the Wall or beyond the Wall. Bran’s companions were Hodor, Summer, and some brother and sister who were Winterfell’s guests at the time of Greyjoy’s attack. These siblings were Bran’s friends. Rickon even recalled the girl’s name — Mira. She was older but looked like a boy with her hunting net and trident. Children of the Bog lord, guessed Arya. She would try to contact their father. And, of course, she would try the book of Northern legends for some information about the three-eyed Raven.

The guard told Arya that Lord Tywin wished her presence at the Big Hall, so she said goodbye to her brother. “Leave Nymeria with me,” asked Rickon sounding like a demand. Well, apparently Nymeria did not feel bad about it. Arya was curious, how much her girl could remember about the last night. Was Nymeria conscious when she was inside? It seems she had to be somewhat aware, as she accepted Rickon right away. 

She knew it would be better to change into her compromise dress for such occasion, but she couldn’t make lord Tywin wait for her for so long. So yesterday’s blue dress she first had found and put on this morning would probably do.

The guard was already opening the massive door of the big hall to let Arya pass when it was sharply opened and struck the poor man. A little group of northern lords promptly busted out. They gave to Arya a spiteful glare, not even troubling themselves to greet her. They would hardly risk a revolt against the King of the North, but they will show their indignation in all possible ways for some time for sure.

The huge long table has been constructed from not less than ten big tables and was settling down across the hall. It was covered with a dark gray fabric. Lord Tywin and Robb sat in the center opposite each other and were talking in an easy manner. To the right of her brother sat her uncle Edmar Tully and the fat lord Manderly. To his left were Мaegy Mormont and, if she has properly remembered, lord John Amber. To the right of her husband she saw lord Marbrand and Damion Lannister. The other lords and knights borrowed seats to the right and to the left, less important ones were more far from the center. The Northern representatives were opposite to the Western’s and Southern so the men rarely conversed with their neighbors across the table. Men rose, when she approached , and Tywin had her next to himself on the empty seat to his left.

A parchment was laid before Robb. He took a quilt, dipping it in ink, “I am ready. My lady-mother, is likely too busy with Rickon, as she couldn’t come to join us.” With a swift stroke he signed the document and passed it to lord Tywin.

“Although some of my bannerman do not favor my decision with great enthusiasm, but I consider, that we do not have an alternative, to terminate this war. And I am grateful to lord Tywin for his offer of help in our struggle against the Iron Islands. Today they do represent actual threat to the North, and tomorrow they will threaten the entire coast. I completely agree, that they should be crushed once and for all.”

Arya felt the muscles on her Lord husband’s face relax as he obtained Robb’s signature on the document, even his cold eyes flashed with the familiar golden sparkle of satisfaction. Although he had to submit somewhat by signing but it was also clear to her that her brother, the King of the North, was receiving more real benefits from this Alliance.

The both men shook hands and the servant began to fill the cups. Arya thankfully smiled at her brother. She wished her family would treat Tywin more friendly! She hoped Robb was able to assess properly her husband's help to their little brother and not see it as some dirty trick.

“Arya, we were discussing another issue here,” her husband turned to her, “ I have no reason not to believe the reports of the increasing menace of so-called White Walkers. With the winter coming, this could be a problem for the North, and later for the entire Kingdom. I am willing to help — we have a wild fire. But Stannis must leave the Wall. This is my condition.”

“I'll write to Lord Commander John, he must understand the situation,” Arya had received a long-awaited response from her brother a few weeks ago. Of course, he was not happy with her marriage into Lannister family. However, he did reluctantly congratulate her and stated that if his beloved sister was safe and happy, then he doesn’t hold grudges to Lord Tywin. In his long letter he told her about the Wildlings, and about the White Walkers, explaining how much the Wall was struggling now without much help. Lord Tywin had ordered immediately convoys with food to the wall from the Casterly and had promised her to reflect on the others issues as well.

Arya felt slightly intoxicated and her stomach growled. Of course, she did not eat in the morning yet. The strong red wine looked like blood, but, fortunately, she did not taste blood in her mouth any longer. The color of her lord husband’s doublet was of the color of dark blood too, however, was embroidered with gold. And again, he did look like a true king in his triumph; he even did not need a throne for it. Why that still gave her such thrill? She took a few more sips and touched her lion’s hand with the tip of her finger.

“How is Rickon doing? Did you visit him already?” Tywin broke the silence, meeting her eyes. He traced a few circles into her palm with his thumb.

“Yes, he has already been taken care of, although he has a black eye. But he needs some time to get used to us again,” Arya sighed and smiled sadly.

“I'll go to see him now,” Robb have joined the conversation, “I want to express our sincere gratitude to you again, Lord Tywin. It was noble of you…

“And nobility was the least thing expected from me, go on, feel free to finish your thought, king Robb,” Tywin chuckled.

Her brother lowered his eyes from such unexpected straightforwardness, not knowing what to say. The density of silence reigned between them.

“We need a good start in trusting each other instead jumping to some absurd conclusions about my character. I can be tough and ruthless when it requires the need to do so, but the concept of the family is no less sacred to me as it is to the Tully and to the Stark,” her Lord husband was obviously too good-natured today.

“It might sound like a fancy but I saw Rickon in my dream tonight,” Robb made an awkward attempt to change the subject of conversation, “I only remember some scraps of it. Rickon, was sobbing over his dead wolf companions. I also saw you, my lord, with Nymeria. And I remember what had happened before you came there...” Robb faltered, “I remember how the direwolfs had fought with these bandits. Obviously, I have to set aside my skepticism and believe in the prophetic dreams now,” the King of the North smiled. Therefore, her brother was turning into his direwolf too. But he was still believing that these were just some strange dreams. She would think on whether Robb should know the truth or not. And, for now, Arya was glad to notice a little warming sparked between her husband and her brother.

“Talk to Rickon like a man, like a big brother. This will help him out. By the way, he is with my Nymerya right now. But, I think you wouldn’t have any problem with her. Or bring Gray Wind with you,” she winked to her brother-King. Robb smiled, not taking offense at her familiarity. Arya hoped that Robb would be able to reconcile Rickon with his mother, to convince him to put aside his grudge. Who knows, maybe her elder brother could also calm down their mother. She should come to her senses and come to terms with her marriage! 

Robb said goodbye and headed to the exit. “Let's go, you need something to eat,” Tywin extended his arm to her and she got up leaning on it, feeling the slight weakness in her legs. The memory of drunk Cersei who would had fell if not for her father’s help suddenly came back to her mind. Arya cautiously looked up at her husband, but did not read any conviction, or disgust in his eyes. She made a few steps — she was not like Cersei yet. However, she would rather stay away from a drink before breakfast from now on.

“Well, life with you has taught me already a lot,” her lion grinned after learning about Rickon’s words during their breakfast, See, I already do not doubt at all the existence of White Walkers. And now we have the three-eyed raven; no surprise at all. I doubt Rickon would tell you something more — he simply doesn’t know. As it seems to me, it is connected somehow with the Old Faith, — concluded Tywin, confirming her own guesses at the matter.

 

***

 

After yesterday's night’ events Tywin did not doubt any more the existence of some phenomenon, inexplicable with practical reason. Furthermore if they were not fairy tales it would be necessary to secure both the family, and the Kingdom in all possible ways. Westeros was his until Tommen will be of age. However considering the gentle disposition of his grandson, he would probably remain as such a king without a crown for an infinite time. And lions are natural protectors of what is theirs. He already started to take some measures before their departure from the Red Keep. His people had found a Rglor’s priest in the Free Cities and he was looking forward to meeting with him in Casterly Rock. Besides, he should be ready to make a couple of crucial decisions in the near future.

He looked at Arya who was peacefully sleeping. His girl had first eaten and had some more wine when she then attacked him with a surprising crude fervor. Just like some warriors do after a bloody fight. But, when they were already in bed, she suddenly conceded allowing him to lead them in pleasures, gradually relaxing in his arms. Afterwards, already satisfied, she had fallen asleep on his chest, “Do not go, please, “ she murmured into his shoulder. That was an unusual weakness for his wolf girl. But her trusting him pleased him immensely.

Let her rest till the evening! He wouldn’t mind to take a nap for himself, but it never was his habit to sleep during the day. Lord Edmar was arranging a feast tonight to celebrate the peacemaking. Expecting such possibility, they brought some good wine and some provisions with themselves as well. The main thing he had concerns about, in the end the former enemies could start a fight. The majority of northern lords and sirs had more arrogance, than brains. Generally, the southern nobility was not much cleverer, just more outspoken with a refined presence. Tywin involuntarily closed his eyelids and began to fall into twilight. It wouldn’t be a big deal if he would change his long-term habit just once today, on the fault of his young wife of course.

 

***

 

It was almost afternoon when they were leaving the Riverrun. Surprisingly her lord husband did not insist on his usual departure by daybreak. The weather was favorable to them — despite cold autumn air, the sun regularly looked out through the clouds. Arya felt a little sad to leave her newly found family: she would hardly see them till the spring. She might visit the Riverrun, but Winterfell was much further and with winter approaching it wouldn’t be practically possible. Tywin would never allow her to go on such a dangerous and long trip. Her lion let her do much, however he was unshakably overprotective and steadfast concerning her security.

 

Arya said goodby to her sister, brothers and uncles and headed towards Thundercloud when lady Catelyn appeared in the courtyard. She happily turned back to embrace her mother. She would feel much better if they would part on better terms, not like some strangers.   
Her mother opened her arms to her and they embraced silently. No, she did not have any hopes neither illusions —her mother will never change her attitude towards Tywin. But that her mum did not consider her as the enemy any more, warmed her heart somehow. They did hardly talk during this week. Lady Catelyn tried to spend as much time as possible with Rickon. It seems, that after the third conversation with Robb and her and Sansa’s admonitions he even began to call her mum again.

“Take care of yourself,” her mother was short.

“I am going to write to you all,” Arya promised in return and truly meant it.

 

“In one week we will be in our castle, my lady of Casterly Rock. It is a pity that no one of yours will be at the wedding, but it is understandable,” Tywin had stopped short. No peace agreement will help to forget and forgive the kingslayer’s attempt on Bran’s life. Arya was obliged to be present because of her lord-husband, but she was secretly glad for not making her own choice about it because she wanted to support Brienna. It would be better if Sansa could be with them, as her sister certainly had some magic in her to transform the Maiden of Tarht into a proper young lady. Though Sansa had prepared everything in advance.

She had picked a dress of color matching Brienna’s radiant blue eyes and had experimented with an easy make-up to emphasize the beauty of her eyes even more. And with the hair laid under a dense sapphire net and a sapphire necklace on her neck. These both were Jaime’s gifts that she reluctantly agreed was thoughtful of him. All these arrangements should help her friend to look quiet nice, if not a real beauty. And it would be up to Arya to watch out for Brienne’s assistants if they would appear to be harmful stinkers who might try to go some wrong direction in her preparation for the ceremony just for the sake of a sneer.

 

Arya approached her friend. Brienna looked gloomy, absorbed in her thoughts, “Well, are you missing your groom? I hope, that my mother did not hurt you with some offensive words.”

“No, not at all, lady Catelyn had thanked me for service and had wished me a good marriage life. I also am not holding any grudge because she has a good reason not to attend my wedding,” sighed Brienna, “Simply I would feel more joyfull, if my groom wouldn’t have certain unworthy acts in his life, if his conscience would be clear,” the Maiden of Tarth faltered.

“Mother told me everything. Probably, so I wouldn’t have any illusions about my new family. But you knew all about it long before his offer. I cannot be impartial — Bran is my brother,” Аrya bit her lower lip, struggling with her feelings, “But as you love the kingslayer, I shall not wish his death. We shall consider, that he had paid his debt with his hand, “ Brienna was listening to her with the same strained sorrow. Аrya knew, that her straightforwardness was the worst idea to persuade her friend to forget about the obvious facts and to change her mood for better, but she risked to continue nevertheless, “I had compromised my hatred and desire for revenge for the sake of your feelings, so you are simply obliged to try to become happy. And lions are able to love!” Brienna nodded to her as a token of an agreement and smiled. 

They rode in silence for a while. “And do not worry about wedding — you will be beautiful, I promise. Sansa’s lessons wouldn’t be forgotten,” Arya changed the subject.


	18. Chapter 18

They were dancing in the enormous lavishly decorated big hall of the Casterly. Lady Genna overdid herself in turning the castle into a festivity with the Lannister’s colors. Arya did not contradict the general color scheme: the dark scarlet skirt of her new dress which fluttered vigorously when she turned. She was moving with practiced ease now — her fear forgotten a long ago. Tywin gave her a look of approval and even smiled with the corners of his lips. Good, he got over their yesterday's quarrel. And she forgave him yesterday already. Besides, it was unclear what was more offensive — Tywin’s furious roar, or her sarcastic response. Her lion got enraged because of such trifles as her visiting the Casterly’s underground caves with lead to the sea.

But she had not been alone simply in the company of lady Genna’s grandchildren Ty and Willem. She did not take the guards? Of course, it wouldn’t be the adventure if she had been escorted. It was not dangerous to explore winding underground tunnels, corridors and stairs of underground living stone if you tread them carefully. She was mesmerized with stalactites, with their bizarre shapes resembling some kind of fantastic creatures. It seemed they even moved a little in the light of the torch. They had failed to go out to the seashore due to water that had accumulated during autumn rains, although they chose the time of a low tide. Arya, of course, had tried to pass on the edge of some little pool, that she thought was just a puddle, holding onto the wall of the cave. But she had slipped and ended up in the icy cold water up to her thighs. And although she had managed to get out quickly, water had seeped into her boots. It was not really a big deal, just wetted her feet in the underground lake. 

Tywin just couldn’t get it yet that she couldn’t always behave like a lady! “You had been a boy ages ago, so you probably all forgot how it felt,” she threw to him against his accusations. Lord Tywin did not continue to argue. He left, slamming the door. He had spent the night in their bedroom, as his blanket was messed up in the mourning, but they met only in the afternoon. “Are you ready?” he coldly had extended her his hand and they were headed to the ceremony.

At the next dance turn, Arya clung to her husband for an instant. It would be better if they just forgot about the yesterday's misunderstanding. It wouldn’t be possible for her to change her lion any way. Lady Genna told her this morning when they were helping Brienne that, even as a youngster, Tywin had behaved like a little adult. She, too, had matured early, but her love for adventure had not disappeared. And she really didn’t care much if Tywin liked it or he did not.

They switched partners, but in two dances Arya was in the hands of her husband once again, enjoying the tantalizing proximity of her lion. When they returned to the table she carefully looked at Tywin — he was clearly satisfied and no longer angry. It's like a weight lifted off her heart. Although she did not considered herself guilty, it was not nice of her to remind the old Lion about his age. But it was the truth that did not really bother her. Of course, it was some compromise of her priorities: lord Tywin wouldn’t laugh heartily with her, Lord Tywin wouldn’t take part in some practical jokes she liked so much before, he wouldn’t go exploring with her. But only him she sincerely admired, only his touch caused her unmistakable waves of desire. Even by sitting silently next to him she felt well and happy.

Arya was so caught up with her thoughts that she almost forgot about Brienne. Everything was perfect so far, as they followed all of Sansa’s advice. If the guests did not really admire the beauty of the Maid of Tarth, they also did not look at her with sneers either. Brienne overstepped her usual shyness and managed to answer to congratulations with an easy smile. She needed to give credit to Jaime as he was treating his young wife with warmth, not hiding his feelings that he probably really had. Brienne’s eyes shone with genuine happiness, making her quite attractive. Well, Arya was really relived that Cersei did not show up at the wedding and did not spoil everything with some nasty cruel trick.

Arya looked at her friend. Brienna was seating quietly hunching under a Lannister red cloak, lowering her eyes and wrinkling the gold trimming with her fingers. Meanwhile the kingslayer was talking to some knight without paying attention to his wife’s mood change. “She is afraid of the ceremony that would follow any time soon,” understood Arya. “Can we skip bedding, please,” she looked up pleadingly at her lord husband. But, to her displeasure, he shook his head negatively, “I will not deprive our guests of their beloved tradition. But you have nothing to worry about for your big friend — her fighter’s reflex will kick in at the right moment. Let’s see who will be the first with a black eye or a broken nose,” he chuckled. Arya sighed, Brienne had already became Tywin’s good daughter but his sarcastic attitude towards her was still present.

“Why do you know everything?” Arya uttered through her muffed laughter. Diamon Lannister was returning to his seat. He was swearing and holding the reddened handkerchief by his mouth. The men who were left by Brienne’s side took her gallantly by her elbows and led out of the big hall to the matrimonial chambers stripping her out of her cloak only.

The kingslayer was less fortunate — about a dozen girls and women carried him in their arms, letting go of the frivolous jokes. His doublet and boots flew onto the floor before the procession disappeared behind the door.

“I'm not a boy like you had noticed yesterday,” Tywin looked at Arya and she inadvertently lowered her eyes under his gaze. She should be careful with her words, indeed. Her lion was overlooking nothing and always paying his debts.

***

 

Мaeol was gazing into flames of the hearth with his unblinking dark eyes, muttering some strange spells. Lord of Casterly was observing him skeptically and wondering, the truth in the priest’s actions — show or real spiritual inspiration? “We shall live — we shall see,” decided the lion and put his skepticism aside once again.

Despite his obvious commitment to his deity, Maeol appeared to be a practical person. And he already appeared to be useful. He knew Melisandre back in Asshai years ago and considered her a strong, but not a very flexible of mind priestess. Fortunately, Maeol had declared, after he had conferred for some time with his fire, that Stannis was not Azor Ahai by any means. It was simply irresponsible and quite a fatal mistake of the red woman, the priest had reassured Tywin’s uneasy thoughts. It facilitated his business — any priest, even one who had been expelled from his temple, to not go against the Red God’s true prophecy. Maeol was not a scrupulous person and agreed on a title of lord and some land for his help in eliminating of the impostor Stannis. However, he refused to harm the red witch — maybe out of fear, maybe because of his cult solidarity.

Certainly, it would be almost impossible to force Stannis to leave the Wall. To be realistic to make Baratheon leave the Castle Black would be enough for his plan. That would prevent the noble lord Snow to rush to protect his guest. Tywin would send his people to the Night’s Watch under the disguise of new recruits. And Мaeol will go to visit Меlisandre to distract her or if it would seem possible, even to persuade the red woman. Meanwhile his people will coordinate their actions according to the situation, as the self-proclaimed king could not be always well protected.

Аrya had already sent a raven to her half-brother from the Riverrun. The confidential letters of beloved relatives were always better, that some ultimatums. If the Lord Commander of the night watch wished to receive wild fire, he better execute both — persistence, and diplomacy, to force Stannis to relocate from the main castle.

“But what about the prophecy?” asked Tywin without even hint of curiosity in his flat tone, “I heard something about dragons across the Narrow Sea. Or is this just fables of a drunk seamen?”

“My lord,” the priest turned from the fire, “No amount of wine could force numerous strangers to see the nonexistent. The person, to whom I trust, as my own brother, had beheld them with his own eyes in Quart. They were just winged lizards, but time flies, my lord.”

If wargs, the White Walkers and witches existed in this world, than could the dragons also appear in three hundred years? The Dragon Queen? The Breaker of Chains? The last Targarien? No, that dammed dynasty should not revive.

 

***

 

They were in their tent tonight. Since the night of Rickon’s rescue Arya did not dare to turn into her furry sister as the memoirs of spilled human blood were stopping her. However, these memories became more and more indistinct and less and less personal. Last few days Nymeria behaved strangely. She often left their sight and ran alongside the road in the woods. Arya had even started to worry that her girl would decide to leave her for the wild. Undoubtedly, she had her right to choose so. But Arya also had her right to learn what was wrong with her wolf.

So, she did not hesitate to jump into Nymeria’ skin. It felt strange this time. Her wolf felt some strange excitement, which partially impeded Arya’s human mind. The feeling was similar to the one she had had during the fight, only this was not a fury. The sensations were concentrated in the area of the wolf stomach. She also felt damp and sensitive under Nymeria’s tail. The smell was a little similar to the moon blood. Certainly, the female animals had it as well only it worked differently and happened once in six-eight moons.

Someone was pursuing her for a while. The pursuer did not even try to be careful about it. To the contrary, it appeared he intentionally let her know about his presence. She had already encountered a smell of this follower on the bushes and the tree trunks. The smell made her dizzy, complicating her human’s thinking. Nymeria stopped, put herself in defensive position and began to growl.

He was not as big as her, not the pure direwolf obviously, but he was larger than the usual wolf nevertheless. He gave out a plaintive howling, made a jump towards her, having buried his muzzle in forepaws. “He is bowing to me,” registered her human consciousness. The wolf made several circles around her, then sat down and started howling again. Nymeria for some reason howled back to him, Arya’s mind just was passively aware of her doing it. Afterwards the wolves sniffed each other and began to run around, catching up, jumping against each other and biting playfully.

When the touches became more often and more intimate. Arya collected her weakened consciousness with a big effort. If she would stay and proceed any further the memories of such lovemaking would be harder to forget that those of the bloody human throats.

In a minute she was back to their tent by her husband’s side. She sighed with relief ; she better be careful now to not turn back to Nymeria accidentally. She moved more close to her spouse, pushed her hand under his tunic, tracing with her fingers downwards. Then she untied his pants. Her lion was deep in his sleep, as were his facilities. Arya felt a little intimidated as she was not use to waking Tywin up by harassing him such and furthermore she had never raised his penis from its initial condition. Whether he would become angry or not? Whether she would be successful or not?

Her lion did not wake up, but his member began to harden under her playful hand. Having rejected last doubts, she dived her head under the blanket …

“So, I am not dreaming it,” Tywin suddenly seized her up and drew her up from the covers. They were face to face now. She couldn’t recognize the expression of his eyes as well not having her wolf eyes. “What’s the meaning of it, lady-wife?” Tywin took her by her chin. If not for his firm member which was pushing against her thigh it would be possible to think, that he appeared angry.

“I, certainly, could continue my wolf dream, my lord-husband, but I had swore fidelity before the Seven,” Arya grinned, settled her hands against her lion’s shoulders and, dexterously caught his raised penis into her already damp heat, and sharply lowered herself on it.

“Well, it wouldn’t do, my she-wolf, I do not wish to deprive you from the completeness of sensations,” her lion smirked, took Arya by her waist, turned her around, put her on her knees in front of him, holding her tight in a certain position. Her lion slightly bit her neck and thrust into her. Unlike her reaction on his similar attempt many moons ago on their journey to the King’s Landing from the Harrenholl she did not become angry.   
Tywin’s way of thinking was logically sarcastic and she could easily rely on it. Although it was not her favorite pose, she might receive pleasure after all. She just began to move towards him, trying to not think about Nymeria.

“I am not sure she would return in the morning,” assumed Tywin when she lay in his arms under furs, already satisfied, “I shall allow us to depart late. We will go hunting in he morning it should attract Nymeria. But we cannot remain here for an indefinite time.”

Arya felt uneasy. There was a possibility that Nymeria wouldn’t return at all — wolves mate for life. Certainly, she could turn into her and return her girl forcefully. But would it be fair towards her furry sister? She could not fall asleep for long because of such uneasy thoughts.

Nymeria did not join them during the hunt, though they were pursuing a big deer — her favorite prey. She did not come to the smell of meat preparing on the fire. After dinner when they had already saddled their horses, Arya could hardly suppress her tears. “I also became used to her company,” Tywin gave her a reassuring hug and she felt a little better.

Nymeria caught up with them in two days after Arya had lost all hope. The wolf simply jumped out of a glade parallel to the road and just simple joined Thundercloud, as if she hadn’t be absent at all.

“Well, did you enjoy yourself tramp?” — Аrya smiled, looking down on the furry sister. If all will be well soon she could make Sansa and Rickon very happy. Certainly, puppies would be smaller than those of a pure direwolf, but they wouldn’t mind.

 

***

 

“I do not understand you, Tywin, could Тirion be so irreplaceable in the Small Council?” his wife brought up this unpleasant matter again. They were close to the King’s Landing, having an easy dinner in a room at the inn and she suddenly recollected their dispute that happened one week ago in Casterly. Certainly enough he always was rigid and unfair to his younger son. And now he did not allow him to go to the Free Cities along with Kivan. And, of course, Gerion was a favorite of Tyrion’s! “ Why you couldn’t send Tyrion just by himself? You need sir Kivan here,” Arya couldn’t stop herself to advocate for Tyrion. The official version of the trip was the investigation of the disappearance of Gerion and the new search for the Brightroar— ancestral Lannistre sword.

Tywin delayed his answer not liking the sight of his young wife at all. She had already learned to comprehend many nuances hidden behind his usual stern visage. “You are hiding something from me,” she concluded with a pouty face. Тywin was in confusion. He, certainly, had his rights to growl at Arya, as the whole affair was not really her bloody business. She would forgive him « a terrible roar of a lion », but not if he mistrust her. As his girl for herself did not hold any secrets from him.

“You are right. But do understand the knowledge will assign to you a part of the responsibility for my actions. So, try to calm Tyrion down. I shall allow him to go later. Also do not speak any more about it, especially, when we shall return to the Red Keep. I do not trust Varys with his dammed “little birds”.

“I do agree — the eunuch shouldn’t be trusted. He couldn’t have been unaware about Litlefinger’s network of spies. Why you did not proceed with an inquiry? After all, Varis could confess under torture as Bealish did,” Arya sneered, “It was amazing softness for you, just let the eunuch go.” She got her point in of course. 

“I always could do it later. For me it is more important to learn where Varys’ loyalties lie. Certainly they aren’t with me by any chance of the imagination. Had you ever tried your exceptional gift with any other animal besides Nymeria?” he asked with a short laugh.

Not yet, but the cat, likely would do. Nobody would pay her much attention, even the clever Varys,” Arya grinned, “I will try but I an not so sure I could do it, as I do have the bond with Nymeria,” his little warg wife was not surprised at all at his suggestion.

“If it wouldn’t be easy for you to do, please, do not experiment with yourself. I do not want you taking any risk.”

Arya shrugged with a pleasant countenance, rising from her seat, approaching him from behind, embracing his shoulders, “I, apparently, could guess about Kivan’s mission. Is it related to the Dragon Queen?” she whispered into his ear, “As so, you better know that your younger son knows a lot about dragons. I even borrowed the dragon book from him. You do not want, after her death, her dragons ending up in the hands of our enemies? And it would be better to tame them, than to kill. If I will be successful with a cat then it could be possible to do with a dragon as well,” Arya set on the handle of his armchair smiling. Her eyes were flashing with a fervent spark.

“Are you a madwoman? Or are you a fool hungry for deadly adventures? I wouldn’t let you approach them within a mile,” bellowed Tywin. But he couldn’t disagree that his wife had her own right in it, “And I wish to look at this dragon book.” 

If Tyrion could help somehow with dragons why not let him try. But he wouldn’t risk Arya’s life under any circumstances. But Tyrion shouldn’t know about his plans concerning the Targarien girl, as his youngest son could be too goodhearted under certain circumstances. He better arrive later after Kivan had agreed about all the terms in the Temple of the Black and White. 

“Well, when you will be of age, I shall make you the Maestre of Whispers. It looks like nothing can slip your formidable observations. And we shall not come back to this conversation any more. I will explain everything to Tyrion by myself giving him no more information as I intend to.”

Arya silently nodded, brushed his cheek with her lips, and returned o her seat across the table. Her eyes, the truth, continued to shine, which probably meant, she did not put aside her crazy ideas about dragons. Tywin frowned ready for his next firm remark but changed his mind.

Against his own will, he suddenly beheld the image of his young wife astride on a small golden dragon. She was clad in black leathers, with thin chain armor. The true queen-warrior, indeed! The vision lasted not more then a fraction of second, but it ceased his desire to be angry.


End file.
